Amnesia
by RattytheScourge
Summary: Vitch've survived a bolas to the head and the redwallers helped him. But he has lost his memory. They go back to Redwall. What will happen to Vitch? What side will he choose dark or light? Betarider is Lepidolite Mica.
1. Chapter 1

Shock, pain, then... darkness. Beautiful darkness, devoid of feeling... Vitch basked in this nothingness, cherishing it.

Then the pain began to return. At first it throbbed faintly, then grew, widened, as if his head were bursting inside, tinnitus growing louder, like the surf, like thunder. He tried to doze off, to escape to the peace of unconsciousness once more, but the pain overtook him, growing ever more unbearable, until...

Vitch grabbed his temples by both paws and shot upright. "Oh Hellsteeth, my head!"

"If I were you, I would not touch those bandages," said an unfamiliar voice. "You are seriously injured."

The little rat opened his screwed-up eyelids a fraction, and slowly leaned back into the bed on which he was lying. Dizzying images danced before his eyes; everything was cloudy and indistinct. Vitch could just barely distinguish the shape of a little mouse sitting next to him.

"Where am I?" the little rat asked below his breath. It was not so much a question of the location where he now lay; the question could have just as well been "Who am I?" or "How did I get here?"

"We are currently on the edge of the Great Southern Cliffs; we've already passed the gorge and the Painted Ones' wood."

Vitch blinked a few times. He didn't understand a word of what the mouse had said; those names and places meant nothing to him.

"We are returning to Redwall," added the mouse. He gave Vitch a concerned look, and the undersized rat began to worry. There was not a single memory in his head. Nothing remained but noise and throbbing pain.

A more pressing concern grabbed his attention. "I'm thirsty."

The mouse continued staring curiously at him, hesitating as if he wanted to say something. But then, without another word, he stood up and walked away.

The little rat turned his head cautiously, trying to look around. Tents and bonfires had been constructed a few paces from the cliff's edge, as a temporary encampment. Mice, otters, squirrels, and strange little mouse-like creatures with long muzzles and colorful headbands sat around the bonfires, chatting and enjoying themselves. In the distance, a huge badger sat separate from the camp, sharpening a mighty axe.

"We are returning to Redwall," the mouse had said. Damn, why did that name mean nothing to him? Vitch struggled to remember what had happened to him, but only came to the frightening conclusion that he simply could not do so. He didn't remember anything; nothing at all. Not even a few memories came to his mind. Only the blackness, and the piercing pain.

"Here." Vitch looked up to find that the mouse had returned and was holding out a bowl of water.

"Thanks, buddy," the rat said mechanically. He didn't know where the friendly nickname came from, but it just felt right.

Surprise flashed in the mouse's eyes, but Vitch dismissed it. In one gulp, he drained the entire bowl, then he handed it back. He began to feel better; as it turned out, the pain he felt was nothing more than severe thirst. Strange, how all pains seem the same when one has such a terrible headache. The little rat sat back, fading from consciousness once more. The last thing he said was:

"And what's your name, friend?"


	2. Chapter 2

This time, pain mingled with the darkness, muted and hidden. But it lurked around the corner, like a serpent waiting to strike, and bite deep inside his head with its sharp fangs.

Vitch fled from the pain, frantically trying to hide in the depths of his psyche, but it overtook him once again, coming forth from its cover and attacking furiously. And then...

A thought. A memory. He felt his body swaying gently, as though somebeast carried him. It was a forgotten feeling of long-ago childhood, like a babe rocking in its cradle. But some nagging thought in the back of his mind told him this couldn't be, this wasn't his childhood...

Nothing else pierced through the ever-present oblivion. Dreams require memories to build their foundations upon, but there were no memories in his mind.

The pain returned to clutch at him, and Vitch groaned and raised his paws to his head.

"Try not to move," a stern voice said. "It is necessary to change the bandages."

The rat opened his eyes. An elderly mouse lent his paws to Vitch's head, and he began to beg, "Oh, no, no, don't touch! My head hurts terribly, I'm dying!"

"It has to be done, or it will only get worse," said the mouse, slowly peeling off the gauze. Vitch gritted his teeth, trying to suppress a scream. "You're lucky you survived such a blow, even if it was glancing." He carefully applied clean wraps, binding them tight to ensure that infection could not pass.

"What blow?" the little rat whispered, leaning back as the medical torture came to an end.

The elder paused, surprised. "Do not you remember?" he asked.

Vitch stayed silent, trying to remember. The attempt was greeted only by darkness, broken by faint flashes of light. "No, I don't. Did I fall?"

The mouse was silent. Then he mumbled something like: "Of course, such a blow would be guaranteed to have side effects. But maybe, it would be best for him not to remember..."

"It's better for you not to think about it," he answered. "I'll bring you some food. At this point it's more important for you to just recover, and then maybe you'll remember." With that, he left.

Vitch squeezed his temples with his paws. If he didn't fall, then what happened? Why couldn't he remember?

And why did the mice help him? Were they his friends? And if they were, why did they give him such strange looks?

And most importantly, who was he? Hellsteeth, he didn't even remember his own name!

Vitch flexed his paws. As far as he could tell, they were normal, for paws. He pulled his tail out from under himself. It seemed normal, but he couldn't tell what kind of tail it was. Was this the tail of a rat or a mouse?

The elderly mouse returned, with vegetable soup and an herbal tea that smelled of mint.

"Drink this - the herb mixture will help your headache, and you'll be able to sleep."

"Thanks," Vitch said.

The elder left quickly, before Vitch could say anything more. Something occurred to him: these mice seemed kind to him, but they weren't so much friendly as… He struggled for a word, though the sentiment would not be stated aloud. Their kindness seemed unnatural, as if they were forcing themselves to be friendly to him.

The elder gave him food and left. If he were truly a friend to Vitch, wouldn't he have stayed and waited until Vitch had finished eating? Or the little mouse; he was shocked when Vitch called him 'friend'.

Vitch barely ate the soup; his head began to hurt more and more.

"I hope this tea will help me," he muttered.

Maybe the mice were just so upset that he did not remember, that they didn't know how to act around him? After all, he should know them, because they knew him.

How well did they know each other?

And what had happened to him? Was it an accident?

Or something worse?

The healing tea began to act, and Vitch slowly became drowsy. The pain dulled to the point where he could almost ignore it. Closing his eyes, he fell back into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke up, it was a beautiful day. Birdsong filled the air, along with the smoke of fish grilling on fires all over the camp. The little mice with red headbands were tussling, but not maliciously. Two mice chattered away about something he couldn't hear, laughing as though the topic was immensely entertaining.

No one paid him any attention. The feeling was familiar; a sense of of being surrounded, but ignored. A quality that was particularly useful in espionage.

As soon as he thought this, he began to question himself. Espionage?

A voice formed in his mind's ear. "Keep spying!" it said; "You will return to Redwall!" It was the voice of a terrible beast, he thought, though he did not know why. The voice seemed muted, as though spoken through fabric, but this didn't diminish its terrifying quality...

All too soon, the memory faded. Vitch sat up on the bed and grabbed his head, as though trying to catch the memory before it escaped. The voice had seemed familiar to him, but whose was it?

Nothing but emptiness answered his questioning thoughts. Not a single thought, not a single memory.

He decided he'd had enough of laying down. The pain in his head had subsided, and so he rolled off the cot and struggled to his footpaws. His head was spinning, but on the whole, he felt better being vertical. At the very least, he was no longer tempted to give in to the emptiness of unconsciousness.

He didn't stay vertical for long. He wasn't entirely sure what happened; one moment he was walking around on unsteady footpaws, and the next his chest was on the ground. He looked up to see the two mice run up to him.

The male mouse, which Vitch recognized as the one who was surprised at being called 'friend', helped him up to a sitting position. Vitch tried to return to his footpaws, but the mouse stopped him. "You don't have to get up!" he exclaimed.

Vitch stopped trying to stand. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he said. "I can't lie down all day long, it's going to drive me crazy!"

"But you don't have to stand up now," the male mouse replied. "Just sit down for a while, and allow yourself some time to adjust to being vertical first." He was silesnt after that, but continued looking at him anxiously.

"You know me, don't you?" he said. "Tell me... about myself. I know it sounds strange, but I really... I don't remember."

"Well, what don't you remember?" the male mouse asked. The female looked away, shifting from one paw to the other.

Vitch stretched out his paws and looked at them. "I don't remember anything," he whispered, more to himself than to the mice. "I don't remember what happened to me. I don't remember you, though I get the impression I should. And I don't remember…" He grabbed his head with his paws, as if trying to return his thoughts to where they belonged. "I don't even remember my own name!" he cried out in panic. "Who am I?"

The male reached forward and placed a paw on his shoulder. "Your name is Vitch," he said.

"Vitch…" Vitch repeated his name, savoring its return to his memory. It wasn't much, but he cherished it anyway. "So, am I a mouse or a rat?"

"You're a rat."

"Vitch…" He shook his head. "It's strange; I thought that when I heard my name, it'd be something like, 'Oh, yes, exactly, I remember now,' and it would all come back to me. I guess it was silly of me to be so hopeful." He hid his face in his paws again.

"You haven't had enough time yet to recover," the female said. She seemed more sympathetic to his situation than the male. "Once you get better, you'll probably remember everything."

"But do you know anything else about me?" the little rat said. He pulled himself to his footpaws and grabbed the male mouse's paw. "Tell me what you know, please!" he pleaded.

Mattimeo had mixed feelings. He had hated Vitch once; he was consumed by a drive for revenge. For the insults, for the feuds, for helping Slagar, for undisguised schadenfreude, the list went on and on. When he saw his enemy shackled, he wanted nothing more than to be near him, to teach him a lesson!

But it was one thing to simply wish revenge on a tormentor. It was another thing entirely to see him in a pool of his own blood, struck down by the monstrous weapon of an equally monstrous slaver. This was different, no matter what anybeast might say about it.

Much had changed for Mattimeo; now, having lost his friends, and almost lost hope of ever seeing is parents and Redwall again, he had begun to appreciate life. Any life, every life.

So he did not tell Vitch that he was a former slave driver, spy, and scoundrel, who paid for dearly for his actions, and they helped him out of a simple moral obligation.

Because if he found out, he would leave. And if he left, he would not survive alone.

"My name is Mattimeo, and this is Tess," he said. "We've been through many sad events lately, and we would rather not remember them again so soon. In short, the fox called Slagar the Cruel enslaved us and led us away from our home. But our parents found him, and rescued us and our newfound friends in chains from his cruelty. Now we're on the road back home."

"To Redwall?" Vitch asked.

Mattimeo raised his eyebrows in surprise.

" You said we were going back to Redwall, when I first woke up."

"Ah, yes, so I did." Somebeast elsewhere in the camp called Mattimeo's name. "I'd best go see what they want. I'll talk to you later." He rushed off to heed the call, with Tess following close behind.

Vitch half-heartedly waved goodbye, already pondering the information Mattimeo had shared so generously. Slagar the Cruel... Slaves ...

What was Vitch's part in this story? Where did he fit in, in this tale of villains and heroes? Somehow he got the impression that Mattimeo wouldn't tell any more of what had happened. But why?

One thing was clear, though - his parents were not among these beasts. He most likely wasn't one of the slaves that had been rescued.

Come to think of it, just how much did he belong with them at all? All around the campsite were mice, squirrels, the little mice with colorful bandanas - Vitch overheard they were called 'shrews' - otters, and even two badgers. No rats. No vermin of any kind, in fact.

Except him.


	4. Chapter 4

Vitch stumbled over to Mattimeo, gradually growing more steady-pawed as the feeling returned in his legs. "I'm going out to gather twigs for the fires. I want to do something, instead of laying around all the time."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, " replied Mattimeo. "You can barely stand up, and if something happens to you while you're away from the camp..."

"I can handle it," insisted Vitch. "I just can't lie down anymore," he repeated. He felt an urge to distance himself from the others, to be alone for a while.

They didn't try to stop him once he'd made it clear his mind was made up. "Don't get too far away!" Tess called after him, as he turned to leave. "Bring the twigs to this fire here, so the shrews can make breakfast before we hit the road."

"Will do!" he called back, as he reached the tree line. He wandered through the woods, shortly coming to a small grove not far from the camp. From off in the distance, he could still hear laughter and jokes from the congregation of beasts.

Picking up small twigs with quick, easy movements, as if by habit - had he done this often before? - Vitch came across a small stream. He drank deeply of the water, and took a few pawfuls to cool off his temples and neck. His head began to ache less, and he started subconsciously thinking about what he'd learned.

Slaves... Slagar the Cruel... What a name for a beast! Who was this fox, that had had such a tremendous impact on these beasts?

And this Mattimeo… _annoyed_ him. Vitch felt some hostility towards the little mouse, but the emotion made no sense to him.

As he gathered along the creek, he came to a place where the flow split off a small trickle, which flowed down into a glassy puddle. He bent down, staring at his reflection.

So this was the rat they called Vitch. A thin rat muzzle, small curled ears, poorly kept fur, and head bandages with red-brown spots of blood.

Vitch gazed at the unfamiliar reflection. To think that, with all the things that he'd forgotten, he couldn't even remember his own face? With a sigh, he picked up his bundle of twigs again and returned to the camp.

Near the fire that Tess had indicated, a young vole sat with a grim look on her face. _I can talk with her,_ thought Vitch. _Females are usually more talkative; If Tess had been alone earlier, she would have told me everything._

He stopped himself. What kind of absurd thought was that? Even if the stereotype - for it couldn't be anything else - were true, the only purpose it could serve was gathering information for…

Espionage. Of course. It always came back to espionage.

He paced over to the fire and carefully piled the twigs beside it. He tried to smile good-naturedly to the vole, but he probably looked like a real nightmare with his fever-swollen rat's muzzle and bloody, bandaged head.

"Hello!" That might have been to loud. "Um, I brought some fuel for the fire."

The vole looked at him with fear and drew back slightly.

Vitch wanted to try to calm her down, but he couldn't think of a way to do it. "Um, what's your name?" he asked.

She paused for a while, blinking in confusion. Finally she said, "You know my name."

Vitch put his paw to his head and tried to smile.

"Yes, probably, at one time. But I forgot, everything. Can you help me remember?"

She was silent, but her expression spoke volumes of barely disguised hatred.

"I wish I could forget," the vole said finally. Her voice sounded sad and angry.

"Forget what?" The undersized rat asked.

"That my mother is dead!" She stood up. "That when I will return to Redwall, she won't be there for me!"

"I'm so sorry..." Vitch uttered the only phrase that he could, knowing it couldn't change her plight.

Her eyes widened, her lips were trembling. She clenched her paws into fists.

"You... you _can't_ be sorry!" she shouted. Then she turned and ran, her eyes filling with tears.

He watched her leave, his mind filled with incomprehension. Why couldn't he be sorry about that? The question filled his thoughts the rest of the morning, as he consumed his breakfast in silence and sat through the somewhat less painful process of changing his bandages again.

Then came the time to pack up camp. The few tents in the area were collapsed in seconds, and the fires were doused. Despite his protests, the elderly mouse - Mattimeo's father Matthias, Vitch had overheard - convinced him to lie down on a stretcher. Two shrews lifted him with their deceptively strong arms, and everybeast set off.

Vitch swayed gently in the makeshift bed. With paws settled on his chest, he stared up at the sky; clear and blue, with white clouds slowly drifting across its expanse... It was swaying in time with the stretcher.

Swinging, swaying, and then - it shattered, turning over in millions of tiny shards, then slowly tore apart as the intolerable ringing returned to his ears.

Then came the darkness, as Vitch lost consciousness again.


	5. Chapter 5

Somewhere in the depths of his slumbering oblivion, he had a dream. Or rather, a nightmare. He found himself running out of darkness, as everything underpaw collapsed. Indistinct chunks of his dreamscape crumbled down around him, and somewhere behind him he heard the cries of beasts fading away as they toppled into the bottomless pit. Spurred on by fear, he only ran faster.

He fell, but scrambled to his footpaws again and continued running. His heart was pounding somewhere in the throat, and it seemed breathing just wasn't enough. But then in front of him appeared a bright light - daylight! His salvation burned with the ferocity of a flame, blinding his eyes, but it only motivated him to run faster.

Panting, he sprinted to freedom.

The world split, and the daylight burned out. A shrill cry sounded in his ears; "No, no, please! I never told them anything. I wasn't going with them. They caught me!"

 _No, no, please!_

 _Please…_

Vitch sat up on his cot, shivering. The final cry of his dreamscape still echoed in his ears. _I never told them anything. I wasn't going with them. They caught me!_ He stood up, wiping his brow with a trembling paw. He looked down at the paw to find it soaked with cold sweat.

He looked around. Night still shrouded the sleeping campsite, which was now some distance away from the cliffs. A few sentries sat around a single campfire, joking with each other as they fought off their drowsiness.

Vitch had no need of such entertainment now - his nightmare had ensured he would not be sleeping any longer tonight.

That nightmare… or was it a memory?

He wiped his brow again, and began pacing away from the camp to consider this possibility. If he was truly captured by these mice - and of that there seemed little doubt - then they weren't his friends at all.

Mattimeo wasn't his friend.

But if not them, he wondered desperately, then who was his friend?

The undersized rat made a few more steps before he was stopped by a shout from the camp.

"Vitch, stop! Where are you going?"

The call was followed shortly by Mattimeo, vaguely visible by the distant light of the campfire. Vitch stared at him, unwilling to respond and not entirely sure how to do so, either.

"Where are you going?" the mouse repeated.

"I can't sleep, and I wanted to walk," the small rat said reluctantly. Mattimeo seemed to accept this answer, so Vitch turned and continued walking.

After some time, he heard the faint sound of pawsteps following him. He turned to find Mattimeo, trailing close behind him. "Are you following me?" he asked.

"No..." Mattimeo said, but it was all too clear, to both of them, that this was a lie.

"Why are you following me?" Vitch demanded. "Why can't I go where I like? Are you just afraid to let me out of your sight?" _They caught me!_ echoed the words from his dream.

"Be sensible," the mouse pleaded. "You can go wherever you please, but nobeast could survive these lands alone."

"So you're spying on me, for my own good?" Vitch's voice sounded cross.

"I'm spying?" Mattimeo was indignant. "And what about you, Vitch?"

Immediately, he realized this was the wrong thing to say, if he wanted to keep the rat's past hidden. Accusations given for a life he'd left behind would only drive him away. A more immediate consequence of his rash actions presented itself, as Vitch grabbed his head and broke down into a quiet fit. "Spying… keep spying... spy..." he muttered to himself.

In an attempt to calm him down, Mattimeo took his paw and coaxed him back to his cot. "You can do whatever you want, Vitch; nobeast is stopping you. But if I were you, I would sleep."

The rat lay on his cot, his back to Mattimeo. He didn't seem to have heard his words; or if he had, he refused to comply. Sighing quietly, Mattimeo left him to his rest.

Vitch stared through his surroundings, not entirely aware of them. Mattimeo's words had awakened the faintest echoes of memory, and he struggled to ensure that they would not be lost again.

The word that filled the majority of his addled mind, the word that he had encountered so much in the shards of memory that were granted him ever so rarely, was espionage. Did that mean he was a spy? Mattimeo's careless accusation seemed to prove it. He shuddered, afraid of the possibility but clinging to it at the same time; even if the notion was frightening to him, it was all he had so far. He stared off into the distance, thinking to himself, _Soon, I'll remember. I'll remember everything._


	6. Chapter 6

Sleep never came to Vitch, as he waited out the night desperately struggling to remember something. Nor did any more of his lost memories, even as the sun appeared on the horizon. A new day had begun, and though many beasts still slept, many more had already risen, lit fires, and filled the air with the scent of delicious food.

He stealthily made his way over to a group of young, emaciated beasts, who sat on the edge of the campsite, right beside a small copse. Their separation only served to make him curious, but he chose not to simply walk in on them. Instead, he masked his presence within the trees, moving to flank them in silence and draw as close as he could get to them while remaining undetected.

"Are you absolutely certain," an exhausted hedgehog asked a similarly exhausted otter, "that that little ratscum was with Slagar?"

"If I were certain, I would have already killed him," the otter answered gloomily. He held his paws out to warm them over the fire. "I don't like him; in my opinion, Mathias and the others are wasting our food and medicine on him."

Vitch relaxed himself against the tree he hid behind, a tactic that helped him evade detection by anybeast that wasn't expressly looking for him.

"But he was among slaves," replied the hedgehog. "To think those vile creatures even enslaved their own kind! What a pity that I couldn't kill more of them!"

"Slagar didn't escape his punishment," the otter said below his breath, "but some of those bandits got out of it. They were sent with the eagle owl to the South. From my point of view, it was a mistake to let them go. And I'm almost certain, this rat bastard isn't the innocent victim we think he is. The next time I see him, I'm going to wring the truth out of him."

"Leave him alone!" Mattimeo's voice entered into the fray. He probably had only heard fragments of the conversation, but it was enough to convince him to get involved.

"And why should I do that?" the otter exclaimed. "He's got to get what he deserves! For what we…" he traced his paw in a circle, indicating his fellow freedbeasts, "...all had to endure! For keeping us from seeing sunlight for countless seasons! For every one of us that starved, every one of us that died!"

"I understand what you had to go through, but my father says that it's necessary to forgive, even in victory - especially in victory! And I, for one, agree with him; Vitch has suffered enough already!"

"But he was in Slagar's gang, wasn't he?" The otter stood up.

"I never said that!"

"Tell me, mouse!"

"Fine! He was!"

"I'm gonna kill him!"

"No, Oartail! I won't let you!"

Finally, Vitch decided he'd heard enough. "I don't need your help, mouse," he said, stepping out of the copse. The argument ground to a halt.

"I don't need your pity, nor your protection, Mattimeo," he repeated. "I hate you. I don't know why, and I want so badly not to, but I do. The rest of you, though..." He looked around the campfire at the assembly: the otter, the hedgehog, and a mouse that had stayed relatively quiet up until then. "I know why I hate you. And I'm not sorry." He clenched his paws into fists. "In fact, from what I've been told, I _can't_ be sorry - even if I don't remember what I did wrong! Is this what it means to be a goodbeast, heaping blame on somebeast, and then telling them they can't atone?"

He felt some painful pleasure teasing them, reveling in their anger and pain. The feeling was familiar to him somehow, and he wished feel it again. Even if he would be punished for it, now he was no longer afraid. It felt sublime to strip away their lies, and hit them where it hurt.

Oartail and his friends advanced menacingly on him, but Mattimeo quickly moved to intercept them. "Stop!" he shouted. "Don't you see he isn't well?" He grabbed Vitch by the arm and dragged him back to the center of the camp. Vitch made no effort to resist; the effort of standing up for himself had drained his strength, and his headache had returned once more.

"Are you crazy?" Mattimeo cried. "They could have killed you!"

"What, and proved my point for me?"

"I don't want them to become murderers!"

"Well, _they_ sure wanted that!" Vitch sat down roughly and massaged his temples. The buzzing in his head had returned again, and it was making it increasingly difficult for him to think straight. "Just… leave me alone, mouse," he said. "I hate you."

"Tell me something I don't know," Mattimeo quietly responded. The flippant reply only fueled Vitch's sourceless anger, choking him with pain and hatred.

"Just go away."

"I know you hate me," the little mouse said in low tones. "But I don't understand why. I haven't done anything to you." He stood up, and slowly walked away with his head bowed in silence.

Vitch stared after him, trying to make sense of his hatred. It seemed to him that this little mouse was his worst enemy; but why? His headache increased, muddling his thoughts.

And then, as Matthias approached Mattimeo and put a tender paw on his shoulder, the source of his fiery hatred suddenly became all too clear.

They had a bond, father and son. Family. Something Vitch knew, even despite his amnesia, he himself had never had.

He hated the little mouse because he had friends - Tess, that squirrel, the slaves on the edge of camp, and all the rest.

Because he had a home, Redwall, that he was even now returning to.

Because his father loved him sincerely, and was there to comfort his son in even the darkest of times.

Because, despite all the tribulations he'd been through, all the hardships he'd faced that he couldn't tell for the pain of remembering them, Mattimeo was happy.

And Vitch was not.


	7. Chapter 7

Vitch returned to his tent quietly. If anybeast bothered to pay attention to his movements, he didn't notice, nor did he care. He lay down on the cot with his face down, paws clasped around his buzzing head.

At this moment, the foremost thought in his mind was a fervent wish that everything would dissapear. All these hated goodbeasts, all the laughter, the disputes, the shouts, the ever-present smell of cooking food. He wished that something would happen to make these beasts feel the same sadness he did. That a whirlwind would fly in and kill somebeast, that a fire would strike the forest and choke them with its smoke, that a horde would cross the land and lay blades to their flesh. He wanted to see Mattimeo's tears.

Yes, that was what he wanted to see most of all. That damned father's son, made to feel pain just as Vitch had!

And that damned compassion! Did they really believe that was so necessary?

The young rat felt his eyes clouding up, only just recognizing that on his cheeks evil, scalding tears were flowing. He raised the head, wiped them away with a paw, and returned to a prone posture once more.

 _To think those vile creatures even enslaved their own kind!_ the hedgehog had said.

As those words drifted through his mind, more memories began to unveil themselves. Rats, his own kin. Chained him, dragged him into the darkness. _Don't let them do this to me! I was loyal to you, I served you well. Save me, Slagar!_

He remembered that bitter moment, when his master, whom he idolized, cast him aside, and his own species denied him.

 _I thought he might have been useful, being a rat like yourself_ , the indifferent voice echoed in his head.

A rat like yourself…

And yet they dragged him into the darkness of despair, they closed behind him a heavy door, they stood silent as he shouted until his lungs ran out, begging them, pleading for their mercy.

But when the door was closed, when his world plunged into gloom and darkness, he didn't knock. He didn't tear apart his paws until they bled; he didn't beat on the door or cry out.

Because all of that was useless. For it wasn't mice, nor foxes or polecats, nor anybeast else that had enchained him, enslaved him, but rats - his very kin.

His restraint fell, and he began to sob, tremors shaking his sickly body as he cried out to an uncaring world. The mercy of these mice was worse than hot resin on his head; they toyed with him as though they were some manner of benevolent gods to his pitiful mortal soul. When all your dreams are scattered in ashes, when those you thought had to accept you turn a blind eye, when your home becomes your prison, what difference does it make who sees your tears?

"Are you alright?" somebeast said, shaking him by the shoulder.

"Leave me alone, squirrelscum!" Vitch stood up rapidly, knocking the paw from his shoulder, and turned to strike the newcomer beast, but missed drastically and was sent spinning to the ground again by his own momentum. Once again his body was wracked by a fit of tears, as he realized that he had recognized this total stranger as a squirrel. And even despite the tears and snivels that choked his thoughts, he somehow felt that he remembered more than just that. But what was the beast's name?

The young squirrel made no move to leave.

"Will you leave or not?" the broken voice of the equally broken rat demanded. He forced himself up with his elbows, trying to pull himself together. "Do you enjoy watching me in pain, is it some kind of show to you?"

 _Show… we want to see… we want the show!_ Wild voices began to chant in his head. The pain amplified, driving him into silence as he waited out the new round of torture.

Sam sighed. He didn't know how to help, but he did know he couldn't just walk away. He hated this rat, despised him, deplored him; but now, he saw Vitch not as a rat, but simply as a living being, with his own fears, hopes, and aspirations.

Vitch clasped his paws against his head, and Sam made a guess as to his ailment. "Do you have a headache?"

"Y-yes…" Vitch had neither the force nor the wish to argue, as pain flooded his head once again. This was beginning to seem like a normal side effect of his memories returning.

"I'll bring you some herbal tea."

The little rat didn't answer, and Sam hasty left.

Vitch lowered his paws, trying to settle down. He furiously wiped the tears away from his face and tore off his cloak to blow his nose, without regard for the stain it left, or his general pathetic image.

 _"Shut your trap and stop snivelling, rat." "I've told you once before, ratface. Now stop slobbering down there and get up on your paws…" "Get yourself out of my sight, you snivelling snotface." "No you won't, snotnose."_ A chorus of voices sounded in his head, and Vitch closed his eyes and shriveled into the fetal position, as though bracing himself to be kicked.

He shuddered when somebeast's paw once again settled on his shoulder.

"Here," said the squirrel's voice.

Vitch opened his eyes to find a bowl of steaming tea being held out to him. He quickly took it and started drinking, thinking only about how it would drive away his headache and allow him to think normally.

He returned the now-empty bowl and leaned back, his paw pressed to his forehead. The tea began to work its magic, the squirrel became less blurry, and the pain receded to the dark corners of his head.

"Better?" The squirrel's voice was indistinct, echoing as though it were from far away.

"I'd feel much better if you went away," Vitch answered, finally finding the energy to be impudent.

The squirrel's caring expression broke into a face of surprise and hurt. Vitch grinned; that kind of pain was just fine with him! He refused to be grateful to these goodbeasts; after all, he didn't ask them for all this.

The look of shock did not last long on the squirrel, as his expression hardened. "As you wish," he stated tersely as he stoop up to leave.

"Wait…" Vitch propped himself up on an elbow, peering at the squirrel's increasingly recognizable muzzle. Now, with his pain abated, the memory of this beast's name restored itself. "You're Sam, right? I think I knew you."

"Of course you know me."

"But I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"Everything. It feels like my brains were knocked out."

Sam sat down again. "Well, you're not far from the truth."

Vitch frowned and peered at the squirrel's face again, struggling to remember. "I remember… You said that one day you'd get me… but now that I'm within your power, why aren't you tryin'?"

Sam stood up quite swiftly. "Your brains really were knocked out, rat." He turned and just about ran out of the tent in a rush of inexplicable fury.

Vitch shrugged; the beast had his reasons, and he certainly wasn't going to start feeling sorry for him - compassionate nit. He settled back onto the cot, and succumbed to the darkness once more.


	8. Chapter 8

The gentle swaying began again: they were leaving. Vitch closed his eyes and settled into a half-conscious state, trying to aggregate scraps of his memories. Just as before, though, they continued to elude him, twinkling in the corners of his mind like flashes of multi-colored pictures, or paper butterflies folded from pure dream-stuff.

It became more difficult to think about anything, as the blissful emptiness gravitated his mind to itself. How good it was not to worry about anything, not to matter! All his life he always schemed and devised, seeking to save himself from the shadows of his own future, from the monsters he feared were just beyond the horizon…

Now it was possible to lie and to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. They decided to save him, probably out of some senseless compulsion to be goodbeasts. Or perhaps to keep up appearances before each other, to be known for being kind. Or, maybe, they needed him for some reason.

The everpresent pain reared its ugly head again, cutting off Vitch's stream of thought. He abandoned his attempts to think at all, and gradually settled into a dreamless sleep instead.

It almost felt good to feel pain that wasn't inside his head, Vitch mused, as the blinding sunlight forced him back to consciousness in the morning. What a despicably _solar_ day.

Vitch propped himself up on his elbow, inspecting camp. They had settled down for the night in a plain, surrounded by low grass with very few trees.

If these mice were in slavery, and were now returning home, and he had come with them, logically his home should have been somewhere around here. But everything around seemed so unfamiliar…  
Come to think of it, what did his home even look like?

His attempt to remember was useless; the emptiness that both comforted and bound him had covered over this memory as well.

Vitch sat up on his cot. At least his head didn't hurt. Yes, the pain hid around his temples and nape, but the pulsing flows of absolute agony that he was so prone to feeling had receded for now.

He stood up and stretched. He had slept well, and his strength seemed to have finally returned to him. His doubts and anxieties had faded to background noise, leaving his head clear to think about what really mattered. After all, he was alive, and that was what was most important. For him it had always been the most important thing, simply to survive.

And speaking of survival, it was high time he ate. He chose a fire not too far away, around which a few beasts had gathered to break their fasts. As he padded over to join them, he pulled a thin branch from one of the few trees in the area, and began whacking off the heads of dandelions with quick, precise movements.

At some point along the way, Sam joined him. "How are you feeling? Better?" the young squirrel asked, with a wary glance at the stick in the young rat's paw.

"Oh, yes, squirrel, much better." Vitch stretched again, his next sentence punctuated by yawns and moans of relief. "You can't even imagine, how good it feels, to have a head, this empty. I'm hungry; can I get something to eat?" He glanced meaningfully at the pot bubbling over the nearby campfire. Sam nodded consent, still watching Vitch's armed paw.

The young rat brought down the head of one last plant as he tossed away the stick. He picked up a bowl from beside the campfire, doled out a heaping helping of stew, and quickly retreated from the throng of goodbeasts.

He took a sip of the soup, but found it absurdly hot. That wasn't all that strange, he thought; it had just come out of the pot. He sat it down and began tracing a graph in the dust, trying to collect his thoughts in this rare moment of lucidity. Here, there were the young mice and the others sent into slavery. With them, here, was Slagar the Cruel, the tyrannical fox. The little rat drew a collection of small dots, and one big circle next to them. He drew another collection of dots, to show the mouse, squirrel, hare and badger, and other woodlanders that had pursued them.

And then there were his relatives, the black-robed rats. Dirty traitors. Vitch drew a series of tiny fangs, opposite the slaves from the group of rescuers.

And somewhere over here was Redwall, where the victors of the day were returning to.

But where did he fit in here? Where was he to draw himself?

Slagar the Cruel, most likely, was not alone. Even the strongest slaver couldn't work alone.  
There was a gang, a gang of slavers…

He couldn't have been in the gang; if he were, why was he a slave? He specifically remembered the fetters on his paws.

But if he was one of the slaves, why did those puny creatures, the otters and squirrels and mice in tatters, all hate him so much? Wasn't he one of their own…

Or… was he?

If he was together with Mattimeo in slavery, why did Matti's friend Sam want to "deal with him"?  
Maybe he was just everybeast's enemy?

His soup had long since cooled down, but Vitch continued to stare at the circles and dots he'd drawn, trying to remember…

His thoughts were cut off _again_ , this time by the shadow of an enormous prey bird. He attempted to stand up and run, but kicked too hard in the process and only succeeded in flipping over onto his stomach. He resorted to covering his head with his arms, in a vain hope that this would hide him from the (possible) carnivore.

"Little fearful rodent, covering your head-  
If I'd come to kill you, why are you not dead?  
Stand up on your paws now, no harm do I intend.  
Pray, dispel your terror; I am not foe, but friend."

Vitch raised his head, reassured by the bird's assertion, that if he was to be eaten, he would be already dead. His would-be assailant was a crazy-looking owl, who seemed fond of speaking in verse.  
The owl gave Vitch a gloomy look, finally recognizing the species of the creature before him. He wondered aloud,

"I must my recollection test;  
I thought you taken with the rest.  
To think that you'd have left the south…  
Ah, maybe I should shut my mouth!"

"The south? Who are 'the rest'?" Vitch asked, but the owl gave no response, as the camp began to surround him, shouting cheers of, "Sir Harry the Muse! Sir Harry the Muse!" Then they presented him with a fairly large cake, completely removing the diminutive rat from his mind.

Vitch stood away from the crowd of joyful beasts and tried to remember.

To the south. All of 'them', including him, had taken away to the south.

But with whom?


	9. Chapter 9

The days passed and the group of travellers drew closer to their destination. Thanks to his inherent (or perhaps acquired) observational skills, Vitch managed to pick up on the names and relationships of all the beasts around him, without saying a word of his own.

There were the squirrels, Sam and his mother Jess; the twins, Tess and Tim Churchmouse; the hedgehog Jabez Stump and his son Jubilation. There was the gluttonous Basil Stag Hare and his otter friend Cheek, and that nutter owl Sir Harry the Muse.

And then there were the beasts whom Vitch went to great lengths to avoid. First of all, there were the badgers from the Western Plains, Orlando the Axe and his daughter, Auma. Then there were the shrews – they called themselves "Guosim", apparently, which had to be the silliest acronym Vitch had ever heard of – and they were led by somebeast that called himself Log-a-Log.

And then there were the former slaves – the otter Oartail and his gang. Vitch took extra care to avoid those beasts.

His bouts of mental pain had grown less and less frequent over time, and Mathias, changing out the gauze that wrapped his head, told him that the external damage had healed up nicely; but when his memory would return, or whether it would ever return at all, nobeast could say.

Vitch got used to his predicament gradually, and started using the situation to his advantage. If they wanted to carry him on a stretcher, so be it; they'd get no complaint from him. And if, like for a patient in an infirmary, they brought his food directly to his bedside, he would say nothing to the contrary. His brief bursts of memory had stopped for a while, but it mattered little to him; yesterday's problems had never held much sway over the dealings of today for him.

And speaking of today's issues, there was the matter of Oartail. That otter was always glaring at him with barely disguised rage, every time Vitch passed by. He shuddered, remembering the glint of murder in that psychotic beast's dark eyes. Something had to be done about him, and soon.

Threatening the otter wasn't an option; if he showed any signs of untrustworthy behavior, the kindly beasts that were presently taking care of him would leave him for the worms. Of course, if he could twist things so Oartail looked untrustworthy… A plan began to form in Vitch's mind.

A few days later, the planets aligned, so to speak. Sir Harry had gathered together almost all of the camp for one of his long-winded recitations. Presently, they sat circled around a massive bonfire; all of the Redwallers and Guosim had come, and even most of the slaves had decided to see what all the fuss was about.

Oartail, however, sat on a log some distance removed from the camp, and pottered around with a small campfire. Vitch quietly made his way over, playing with a willow cane as he went.

He lashed the log next to the otter as he arrived, causing Oartail to jump in surprise.

"Greetings!" Vitch shouted, startling Oartail again. "So, I'm curious; why don't you tell me a little about slavery, mate? How is it to be a slave? Were you beaten savagely?"

The plan worked just a little too well. Oartail, now sufficiently aggravated, began to roar deafeningly; "I'll show you how I was beaten, you filthy little ratscum!" he shouted as he shoved the comparatively tiny rat to the ground.

"Help!" Vitch screamed, holding his paws up in an attempt to block the otter's furious flurry. "He's killing me!"

The commotion drew over the rest of the camp, and they pried the blood-crazed otter off of the poor rat. Vitch immediately ducked his head away and folded his arms close to his body, assuming as fearful a posture as he could. "Why did he do that?" he whimpered lamely. "I didn't do anything to him; I just wanted to talk to him…"

The Redwallers started to take Oartail away. Now that everybeast's attention was drawn to the otter, Vitch allowed himself a grin of triumph. Oartail, the only beast that happened to be looking at the time, roared in fury again and tried to force his way back through the crowd; Vitch quickly put up his emotional mask again as he flinched away with a shriek. It took Orlando the badger himself to restrain Oartail this time.

"Poor Oartail," one of the slaves said. "His time in slavery has broken his mind, and now he despises every rat he sees. We'll need to keep him from coming near that rat anymore, so he won't do anything in his blinded fury. Perhaps, life in Redwall will cure his soul…" Yeah, right, Vitch thought. Poor monster.

He was led by Matti's and Tess's paws back to his cot. His body still shook with wasted adrenaline and half-faked sobs. "Why did he do that… Why does he hate me so much… I just wanted to talk to him… and he beat me without mercy…"

Tess sighed in exasperation. "Vitch, stop whining; he didn't hurt you that much. We'll keep him away from you; you don't need to be afraid of him anymore. But you have to try to understand, after everything he's been through…"

"Well, whatever happened to him, it wasn't my fault!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking in an excellent imitation of emotion.

"That's actually not-" Tess began, before Mattimeo hushed her. He motioned for Vitch to sit down on his cot, and examined his injuries.

"It looks like you're alright," he said. "No broken bones, and the bruising doesn't look too bad. Try to calm down and have a rest; we'll be on our way soon. Oartail won't hurt you any more."

As Matti left, Vitch's heart finally began to settle into a normal rhythm. He stretched out on the cot and smiled slyly; everything had gone according to plan.


	10. Chapter 10

… A place of desolation and doom, a claustrophobic cavern surrounding him. Vitch gazed around in awe. He did not walk alone; there was another beside him, but whom that beast may be, it was impossible to see. But he could see rats, rats in black robes watching from dark corners, silent… and terrifying.

It all brought to mind some horrid nightmare. Perhaps it _was_ a nightmare, the demented product of a deviant mind.

Vitch stopped and raised his head. Before him stood the figure of a monstrous white polecat.

"Who comes near Malkariss?" The dark sound of the voice drove the young rat to clamp his ears over his paws. Fear started to boil in the pit of his stomach. If only it were possible to escape, to hide somewhere…

"Who is the other one?" They were talking about him now. They wanted to present him as a _thing_ , a pet; but even in that regard he was worthless.

"He is not born to the Host, our ways are not known to him. A rat that comes from the place of woodlands is of no use to us. Chain him with the slaves!"

Two black-robed rats appeared out from the darkness. Without warning, the world snapped into surprising detail, and Vitch saw the indifferent faces of the two rats clearly. He would not easily forget them, even among their millions of identical brothers.

When he fought against them, shouting in panic, they twisted his paws behind his back, gripping them tightly, and locked on shackles that dragged his paws down.

In despair, he cried out to the only beast that he knew. "Save me! Don't let them do this to me! I was loyal to you, I served you well; help me, Slagar!"

But there was a reason this fox was called the Cruel One.

Vitch screamed, catapaulting out of his dream. He wiped his face with a shaking paw, trying to clear away the last vestiges of the nightmare that still haunted him.

That done, he looked around. He was still on his stretcher; while he slept, the group had moved further away from the plateau. The terrain had changed a bit; the forest had given way to a grassy plain, with heaps of boulders strewn around at random.

The camp seemed oblivious to this natural beauty, as they had all gathered around some unseen point of interest, filling the air with exclamations and inquiries. Something had happened.

Vitch rose from his cot and approached the crowd as quietly as he could manage.

Because of his stature, or lack thereof, he couldn't see what was so exciting in the center of the crowd, so he settled for grabbing the nearest shrew by the shoulder and getting an explanation out of him. "What's going on here?"

"They caught a rat," the shrew answered. "One of the black-robed ones; he was spying on us. Eh, probably ran away from that dungeon with the rest; can't blame 'em, what with it collapsing and all." Vitch had stopped listening; he was trying to push his head through a crack between two of the beasts in the crowd.

The rat lay on the ground squirming. His small eyes defiantly glared out from under his hood. Matthias was pressing a sword to his throat.

Vitch gasped, putting his paw to his forehead. It was one of the two rats who chained him up! He couldn't be mistaken; he would recognize those faces to the last strand of fur.

"For the last time, where are your companions?" Matthias demanded. "How did you track us down? How long were you following us?"

The cloaked rat stayed silent, as if he hadn't heard the question.

"It's useless, Matthias," Basil stated. "Those fanatics never speak."

The warrior lowered his sword and left the prisoner to converse with the hare. "What to do, Basil?"

"We must remain vigilant, my friend," the retiree moved his ears. "If that one bally tracked us down, there will be others."

"Yes; we'll post more sentries, and Orlando and I will stay on the alert, until we return to Mossflower Woods. We'll leave this rat tied up until we go, and then we'll set him free."

"Set him free?"

"We can't kill him in cold blood; it's against the tenets of the Abbey. We will set him free to go back to wherever he came from, and Sir Harry the Muse will follow him to make sure that that he doesn't try to follow us again."

Basil sighed, but nodded agreement.

Everybeast returned to their business, and the Host rat was dragged off to the edge of the camp. As he was tied up, and the group was leaving soon anyway, nobeast bothered to guard him.

Vitch stood alone near a fire, the white-hot tongues of flame reflecting off his dark eyes. There were a lot of thoughts in his head, but a common theme bound them all: Vengeance!

Having decided, he carefully crossed the camp to the prisoner.

Having looked back over his shoulder, he was certain that nobeast was watching them; so, with a great deal of force, he kicked the restrained rat right under the ribs.

The rat bent forward as much as his bonds would allow and gave a cry, more from surprise than from pain, then stared defiantly at Vitch.

"So you _do_ have a voice..." Vitch leaned in and grabbed the captive's collar with his less-than-intimidating paws. "Let's see if you can use it." With that, he struck once again, aiming his knuckles at the captive's neck. "Don't like being bound up, do ya? Not so much fun now, is it?"

Vitch stood up and pulled the rat forward into his raised knee, then brought his footpaw back down on his tail.

The captive displayed remarkable restraint in staying silent, still shooting Vitch a look of unabated hatred nonetheless.

"What's the matter, matey; rat got your tongue?" The young rat raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah, that's right; you're a Host rat, Malkariss has your tongue! You can't speak up like a normal beast, can't say what's on your mind, because your **stupid god** demands it!" With that he raised a fist and brought it hammering down into the captive's eye, then dragged him back to eye contact with the collar of his cloak. "Take me for example; I'm just a normal rat from the woodlands! I've got all the freedom I could ask for! And then you and your precious Malka- _piss_ went and took it from me!" Vitch shouted, his voice dripping hatred. He paused for a while, breathing heavily in an attempt to calm his heart rate a bit.

Then, his grimace morphed into a grin. "It's a good thing he's dead and buried now. Oh, did I forget to tell you that?"

The black-robed rat became nervous, searching the little bastard's muzzle for any sign of a lie.

"Yeah, dead as the rock he was hiding in." Vitch clapped paws. "The big badger and I destroyed that statue and the little maggot that was hiding inside. Or did you actually think that the statue spoke for itself?"

"Do not _dare_ to speak of Malkariss so!"

"Oh, it speaks! I'll tell you again - Malkariss is dead; Orlando and I dealt with him ourselves! He is no more, and not even the tiniest shard of his statue remains!"

A sudden moment of wariness struck Vitch, and he worriedly checked over his shoulder. Nobeast was watching, but the longer he drew this out the more chance he had of getting caught. "You take care of yourself," he stated mockingly, then he turned and walked back to the rest of the camp as quickly as he could without looking conspicuous.

After a while the beasts began to turn camp, extinguishing fires and collecting food and weapons. Orlando and Matthias approached the captive to untie him. They were very surprised to find, in the place of the silently defiant rat they had left, a writhing, feral mockery of a creature, struggling against his bonds and hissing at the badger in maddened hatred.

"Has he gone mad, perhaps?" Orlando asked, letting the blade of his axe dip a bit.

"I don't know," Matthias replied. "He was quiet when we left him. Listen!" he said to the rat. "We're going to untie you now. You'll go to the South, where you came from. Come back, try to follow us, and we'll have to kill you." The robed rat paused his frantic movement, as if he had calmed down, and nodded consent.

But as soon as his paws had been untied, he lunged forward with a roar, snatched out a dagger from Matthias's belt, and charged straight at Orlando, dagger held high and poised to strike.

Orlando's reaction was instant – the blade of his axe glinted in the sunlight, and then…

 _ **CHOP!**_

The fanatic's head and dager-armed paw hung in the air for but a moment, before succumbing to gravity like the rest of his body. Immediately the camp was alive with motion, as everybeast surged forward to discern what had just happened. In all the commotion, nobeast noticed how little Vitch smiled and whispered:

"Revenge…"


	11. Chapter 11

After some time, the group reached the cliff edge of the plateau, onto which rope ladders had been attached. Matthias and Orlando tied a safety line for the first party of shrews, who began to climb down under the guidance of Jess the Squirrel.

After confirming their safe descent, Mathias tied another line for the next party of beasts. When they had gone down as well, it was the children's turn to descend. They were insured with special care; below each child was an adult beast, so that if the children stumbled somebeast would be there to support them. Vitch had been tied with this party as well, and his descent was made fearless by the urge to remember whether he had climbed up this same ladder before. In all likelihood he had, but he'd forgotten it, and the memory was not soon forthcoming.

"Vitch, come on!"

It took him a moment to realize that the call was addressed to him. He understood that his name was Vitch, but he had not yet relearned to associate it with his sense of identity.

"Vitch, put your paw on the next rung; don't be afraid!"

"I'm not afraid," he assured the voice. He started on his way down the ladder again; he would reminisce at a more suitable time.

The descent from the cliffs took them half of the day, and after going only a short distance further, the group stopped on the shore of the river. "We'll rest here for now," Matthias said.

A chorus of grateful sighs and excited cheers met his words, and everybeast began to make camp. The shrews prepared campfires and stacked flat stones around them to serve as makeshift grills. The afternoon was warm and pleasant, and the younger beasts decided to go swimming. Their cries of joy echoed through the air, as they frolicked in the cooling water.

"Be careful, children!" Orlando shouted to them. "There might be pike in the river!"

 _I'm not going into any rotten old river… there might be a pike in there or something…_

The brief snatches of unbidden memory brought with them a wave of pain, causing Vitch to grab his temples and grimace. With clouded eyes he looked at the water, the smooth, overgrown river banks… "I remember this place…" he whispered as he entered the water slowly, unheeding of the wetness that climbed up his body as he proceeded ever deeper.

Everybeast else was occupied with their own business, and Vitch saw and heard everything as if from a great distance. And he himself, it seemed, was in a completely different time.

He had to search the river.

As he passed through the center of the river, Vitch was nearly brought down by the strength of the current. … _they couldn't hide in the middle of a river… go and search that side of the bank, I'll take a look at the other side…_ The young rat clearly heard the order in his head, and waded over to the overgrown coast. Mattimeo and company were entertaining themselves up on the bank; they stood with their backs to Vitch near the hanging ledge of the rock, such that they were unaware of his presence.

"There's no pikes here!" Mattimeo yelled in response to the badger's warning.

"Yeah, we should know," Tess said with a ringing laugh. "We hid here; do you remember, Matti?"

"Aye, Vitch nearly found us; we had to stab him in the paw, so he'd think he was bitten!" They both laughed uproariously at the memory.

… _yowchooch, glubglub. Help! … Browntooth, don't go near that ledge, mate. There's a big pike under there… look, it bit me…_ The voices in his head shouted all the more loudly, and the memory of the pain in his paw came back to Vitch almost as sharply as the original wound itself. A shadow fell over his expression as he sullenly climbed out of the water.

There were no pikes here… but they could be _lured_ here…

Vitch wandered as nonchalantly as he could over to the shrews and asked them for food. Coming back from them with fish and bread, he stealthily made his way upriver to a wider area where there would be a higher chance of him finding the predatory fish. At first he crumbled the bread into the water, peering into the dark depths in hopes of seeing the silhouettes of the underwater monsters. Then he started throwing in pieces of fish; after all, pike were carnivores, weren't they? Pictures of the future cries of pained Redwallers pleased Vitch's imagination. What beautiful, vengeful joy it would be if a pike actually bit that brat Mattimeo!

"What are you doing, m'boy?"

Vitch felt a chill under his skin. That was Basil's voice. He slowly turned back, trying to think up a plausible explanation. "I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just playing!"

Basil took away the rest of the fish. "With food? Food's not a toy, m'boy," he admonished the young rat, waggling the fish as he did so. "You could lure a pike here with this." He gave the rat a suspicious look. "You're up to something, aren't you?"

Vitch cringed and put a paw to his forehead. "My head aches," he whined, forcing himself to start crying. "I'm going to go lie down…"

Basil managed to catch the little rat by the paw before he could slip away. "Stop your whimpering, boy. Don't think I haven't seen all of the 'coincidences' happening in your favor. I don't like them one bit."

"But I didn't do anything!" Vitch exclaimed.

"And nobeast is blaming you. But I want you to know – you're a weak link among us. Most of us don't want to have to take care of you; so you're under a lot more scrutiny, especially after your 'games.'"

"It is because I'm a rat," Vitch said gloomy. "All of you hate me because of it." He willed himself to start crying.

For a moment, Basil worried that he had been too cruel to the young rat, but then his army intuition won out. "I say, stop the tears! I know you can cry on demand, boy; I'm not daft. I get the impression you're perfectly healthy, too, if you can manage your way around camp without trouble. Let's go, I'll look at your wounds."

Vitch protested, but Basil lead him by the paw into the camp and, having taken clean bandages, unwound the old.

"Your wounds are almost healed. Tomorrow we can take the bandage off for good. And if you have enough strength to 'play' with food, you have enough strength to pull your weight. Go and fish with Mattimeo; you two are going to spend some quality time together while you make up for the food you wasted." Basil chucked as he tied the fresh bandage on Vitch's head. "Let's see if you throw out the fish you catch by yourself."

"I don't want to do anything with Mattimeo," the little rat grumbled.

"That's a shame, m'boy, 'cause it wasn't a request. And I wouldn't protest if I were you, or somebeast might go telling Matthias what you've been up to."


	12. Chapter 12

Malkariss said that he, as a rat from woodlands, was not suitable for him. It means, that he couldn't be black-robed rat. Vitch tried to remember anybeast who could have been his kin, anybeast like him. Did he ever knew other rats, rats similar to himself? It was clear that he is a stranger among these creatures - mice, squirrels, otters and others goodbeasts. Was he not a stranger somewhere? And if so, where **?**

The young rat sent another stone skipping along the water surface. It bounced three times and sank.

Mattimeo's patience ran out. "Listen, Vitch, stop throwing stones! We're fishing here, did you forget that?!"

This mouse somehow irritated Vitch more and more, and now he interrupted his thoughts. The rat grumbled: "Who cares about that, the shrews already caught enough for you to sit down and relax, Son of Warrior."

Mathias was called "Warrior" by everybeast and Mattimeo, respectively, "Son of Warrior." It was very annoying, so the little rat uttered the last words with mocking respect.

Mattimeo tried to keep himself together. "It doesn't matter how much they had caught. We were given a task, and we have to fulfill it. And you have to at least stop hindering me."

Vitch defiantly threw another stone into the river and glanced sideways at his enemy.

For some reason he liked to taunt this mouse. It was so... familiar...

Matti jumped to his feet and clenched his fists. "Vitch!"

The young mouse raised his paw to strike, but stopped himself. "You… If you were healthy, I'd give you a good lesson!"

The rat jumped up too and bristled. "Come on, mouse, try it! Or are you afraid? Healthy or not, I'll give you a clobbering to remember! Well?"

The mouse lowered his paws.

"I know what you want to do, Vitch," he said calmly. "You want to provoke me, to get me in trouble. That won't happen. Keep loafing, but if you mess with my work, I'd call Basil."

Vitch also opened his fist and waved his paw. "Come on, do it, snitch!"

 _"Snitch, telltale, gabbygob!"_ began to rang in his head, and the young rat sat down and put his hands on his head.

Mattimeo baited and set fishing rods. The rat looked at him unblinking.

Why he hates this little mouse so much? Yes, he has parents, but Jubilation has parents, Auma has her father, who adores her, Tess and Tim have parents, Sam has them too... So it's not because of that... So why? Why? Why he's trying to taunt Mattimeo as much as possible, forgetting about caution?

Maybe because this little mouse is the favorite of all? Wherever he goes, everybeast is happy to see him, when he says something everybeast listens with admiration, when he jokes beasts always laugh. He is confident, brave and strong. He will become a Warrior after his father, his future is bright and rosy.

And Vitch was not needed even as a servant...

The young rat buried his muzzle in paws.

"I'm so unhappy," he blurted out loud.

Mattimeo turned to him. "Unhappy? Why?"

Vitch's face became impenetrable. "You misheard, mouse. I said nothing."

He wanted to disappear. How he could say these words in the presence of his enemy, this damned favorite!

The mouse approached the young rat, Vitch's sudden words sounded sincere, and Mattimeo wondered: "But why do you feel unhappy? Have you been mistreated? Everybeast is kind to you."

Vitch irritatably banged his fist on the ground. "What do you know, mouse?! I don't need your kindness, you all can keep it for themselves..."

Vitch with irritation banged his fist on the ground. "What do you know about this mouse?! I do not need your kindness, you can leave it to yourself..."

He wanted to get up and leave, but instead remained sitting down and looking defiantly at the mouse. There wasn't anybeast else to share his foul mood with, so Vitch blurted out, despite feeling he's going to regret that: "You don't understand how it feels to be alone, you little spoiled everybeast's-favorite-little-pet! I have no parents and no friends, not even any other rats around. That's enough to feel unhappy? And you're pestering me with your stupid fish!"

Mattimeo looked down. He couldn't imagine this nasty Vitch could be unhappy too. He thought that after everything this small rat did, everybeast treated him with more kindness than he earned.

Then again, was it right that Vitch had to earn kindness?

The young mouse became grown-up during this season, since the time they were taken into slavery. He was not the spoiled son of Matthias anymore – he learned to help others and take responsibility for those weaker than himself. Cynthia irritated him before with her complaints and whining, but then he realized that she was only a young vole, who lost her mother and ended up in slavery. And he had to defend her.

And now Mattimeo saw that his enemy also was a living being, with his sorrows and dreams. Yes, he made the wrong choice, but if even adult surviving slavers were given the second chance.

He made his decision. "Let me be your friend."

Vitch nearly choked on his own tongue. "K-ha, what?!"

" I'll be your friend," the mouse repeated seriously.

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny," the young rat hissed with hatred and threw another stone into the river.

Mattimeo sat next to him. "I'm not kidding. Of course I won't be your best friend" he waved his paw dismissively as if that was the only problem. "Best friends are something special and not a lot of beasts have those. And I'll be just a friend, buddy, if you want. We can do things together – fishing, talking, collecting wood, and all that."

Vitch looked at the mouse's face, trying to remember something. "But you hate me."

"I never said that. And let me tell you: all reasons, that we can't be friends are gone. There's just you and me, and nothing else. Well, except if you can't bear that I'm the son of Warrior, there is nothing I can do about that."

"But I hate you!" The young rat cried out looking the mouse right in the face.

"Do you even remember why?"

"No, I do not remember!" Vitch put his paw to his forehead in confusion.

"Well then, what's your problem?"

The young rat had vague images associated with Mattimeo in his head. Something was between them for sure... Maybe they were fighting? But what this mouse did to him? Or, it was the opposite - he did something to Mattimeo?

"Come on, spoilt baby, little Abbey pet, what are you going to do now, eh?"

Mattimeo extended his paw. Vitch hesitated because he did not understand the motives of the mouse. Why Mattimeo wanted a friend like him. For what reason?

"I did something to you," the young said slowly. "Something bad. But I forgot."

"And I forgot too."

"But you can't just forget evil done to you!"

"It's not easy, but quite possible."

For a moment more Vitch hesitated, but then he took the mouse's paw and shook it.

After all he could try.


	13. Chapter 13

_... For all of this you need a devilish character - for real tears at night and fake whine in the daytime, for constant trust talks with "friends" and then being sitting alone, hiding in the bushes, and in general to accept you as an equal, when you are younger and more little than everyone around you, for bullying weak ones to feel yourself a bit stronger for..._

 _Vitch, look how much errors in dictation you have. Come on, correct them. Do not be lazy, beast, which is able to read and write will go far!_

 _But anywhere "far", he did not go. His skills were useful in espionage, and this..._

 _He already didn't know exactly what he really is - clever or stupid, evil or good, cowardly or courageous..._

 _The mask hides identity as a hooded cloak hides the face and figure, and then adheres to the fur becomes your part._

 _He was smart enough to competently perform the job and wasn't caught, and if it was needed -he could improvise. But he was foolish enough to ask dangerous questions to master._

 _He was brave enough to risk his live by spying in a place which was full of enemies, strong and smart. And he was quite coward being afraid ordinary fights._

 _Enough..._

"Vitch!"

Someone shook his shoulder. The young rat did not realize where he was, and what happened, this half-sleep, lucid imagination of different thoughts, memories didn't disappear immediately.

He opened his eyes -it is bright sunlight.

And that voice.

Mattimeo.

"Vitch, get up!" The mouse again patted his shoulder.

Now he remembered - Matti yesterday offered his friendship, and he agreed. Honestly, he does not see anything good either for him no for the mouse, but apparently Mattimeo decided to take this in earnest.

So, the little mouse told to his friends that now Vitch is also his friend, and that they had this in mind. No one objected to it, probably because Matti was authority for everyone.

Then they fished until the evening, and Mattimeo insisted that now Vitch have to live next to young redwallers, so his bed was moved closer to the tents Matti and his company.

The little rat obediently complied with all ideas of the mouse, more from the fact that disputes distracted him from his thoughts and thoughts were needed to remember. But today, he woke up in a somber mood, because these thoughts in a dream plunged him into despair, and he could not do anything with it.

A cheerful ringing voice of the mouse terribly annoyed Vitch.

"…let's go?"

"Where?" Vitch replied indifferently .

"Well, I have told you," Mattimeo tried to be patient. "We need to catch some fish."

"Again?! We were doing this all day yesterday!"

The mouse sighed.

"Yes, again, because they have eaten it already. We have to do to do it quicker, because in the afternoon we break camp and move on. Come on."

" Why me? the small rat whined . " I did it yesterday, now let someone else..."

"Someone else could make it, but everyone should try to do for each beast as much as possible. Nobody force you do this, but you have to understand that we need food and..."

"Oh, ok, I understood."

Vitch stood up. The mouse tried to lecture him about the fact that everyone has to contribute voluntarily . And so it was, but they were friends and families, and they were nobody to him. And, perhaps even more than nobody, they were ... Enemies?

But he was nobody to them too, they were not obliged to take care of him and cure him. And anyway, he should be useful.

The rat knew it. He always have to be useful.

Because you can't put pride in a bowl, and principles will not make you strong mighty beast which does not need anybody.

And it is better not to quarrel with Mattimeo, the son of Warrior.

They set up a fishing rod,put bait, and began fishing. Vitch assisted Matti meekly and the mouse inspire with this.

Maybe, Vitch is not hopeless?

Mattimeo felt responsible for his former enemy, he hoped that saved Vitch is able to find his place in peaceful life.

Mouse does not really understand whybut he thought, thay if this small rat would go alone and die somewhere, or if once again get into any gang, he himself, Mattimeo, will be saddened by this.

Oddly enough, but ordeals, which the little mouse had, did not harden his heart, but on the contrary, taught him mercy, compassion and understanding of the value of life.

Yes, there were such villains as Slagar or Nadaz, but Vitch was the same kid like Matti, but without loving parents and without friends who would show him the right way.

Mouse looked at fishing rod with unseeing eyes, oblivious the fact that the float disappeared under the water.

When his father called everyone "Follow me to Redwall!", all of them went. And then Vitch ran away. Mattimeo wanted to stop him, but his father held him back, and said: "Let him go, son. He has no place among honest woodlanders. "

And he stopped, did not do that his heart said to him.

Then the masked fox threw this terrible weapons, and the little rat turned from a living being, yes, unpleasant, hostile, arrogant and annoying in the lifeless body lying in blood with outstretched paws.

Mouse could not forget this.

He felt guilty. Maybe he was wrong, but...

But he could not get rid of this memories.

"What's wrong?" Vitch voice sounded. " Do not you see - fish is biting? Even I noticed it, but I think you need this fishing more."

" Oh, yes, thank you," Mattimeo as if he awakened from sleep and pulled the fishing rod.

Together, the rat and the mouse have overcome a big fish and put it in a bucket.

And then they sat down and pretended that followed the rods, but in fact the one trying to remember everything, and the other was trying to forget.


	14. Chapter 14

... There was a feeling that before they would hit the road, Mattimeo decided to do all tasks that he could find.

And yes, all of these things he was going to perform "with Vitch."

Bring twigs for the fire? Yes, me and Vitch will go. Assemble the tent? Me and Vitch will do. Wash all dishes? Me and Vitch will make it. Pick up rocks for sling? Yes, me and Vitch are already free and will do this.

The young rat getting tired of these endless things that Matti took at himself and in addition at Vitch, he was tired, not physically, because the enthusiast did most of work by himself, but from what the little mouse did not leave him alone and Vitch had to do something constantly.

It did not let Vitch to immerse himself in memories and analyze everything that he remembered this morning, and he was very enraged. And he saw that these orders had some other meaning, rat seemed that Mattimeo was watching him in such way, keeping him in sight.

Supervisory little rat noticed that fact he and son of Warrior were almost inseparable was not thing, that everyone liked. Matt's friends, especially Tess the mouse, was upset that the little mouse for all day have almost no contact with her. Earlier it was not so...

"... Yeah, me and Vitch will take care," a familiar exclamation was sounded.

" Maybe, "Me and Vitch" will have some rest?!" Said small rat challengingly."Especially Vitch, and "me" can do what you like."

The mouse looked at the rat surprisedly.

\- Do you feel bad?

They already removed the bandages from Vitch, forbidden him to touch terribly itchy crust of dried blood on his head, and now the small rat looked even more terrible than with bandages. But Basil and Mathias said that he is quite healthy for simple instructions, and Vitch's behavior itself told that he was already feel much better.

"It's not necessarily feel bad to get exhausted of these senseless affairs, mouse. I want to sit easy even for a minute!"

"Okay, I'll do it. And you have some rest."

The mouse went away and wearily Vitch flung himself wearily on the ground and stretched legs. Now, finally, he had time to think.

Taking one of the branches lying on the ground, the young rat began to draw again on the ground.

But doing this, he glanced sideways at the "problem group", as he called Oartail and his company. Redwallers followed that the otter did not come close to the rat so far, but Vitch knew very well how many things you can do for couple minutes.

Therefore, anxiety about this again came to him. So, there were slaves, young redwall ones and the Oartail company.

Fact, that Oartail and his comrades were much more thin and exhausted, was lead to the conclusion that they were in slavery for much longer.

To be a slave, they need somewhere ... to be in bondage.

To build something or grow something and being kept somewhere.

The conclusion suggests itself - this dark, gloomy place, where he was brought and where terrible voice, of Malkariss, or something like that, ordered to chain him with the slaves.

With him two ones went. To one he shouted, "Save me, Slagar!" Then one of them was definitely the fox.

Vitch could not remember the other one.

So he went with Slagar. There, to the darkness. But why?

If he was ordered to chain together with the slaves, this means that he was not with them.

He was free ...

Some screams were sounded and Vitch awoke of memories. He ran to the source of the noise.

They caught another rat in a black robe.

The little rat stood on tiptoe to see the prisoner's face and then stopped it.

Even if this rat was not the one that dragged him into prison, he would be very pleased to be on his place. With unquestioning obedience to his master.

Therefore, all black-robed rats deserve his hatred.

Vitch felt excitement in the chest and a mild tingling in the fingertips of paws.

Revenge!

 _"Vengeance, that's the word. I tell you, rat, there's nothing in the world like the moment when you have your enemy helpless and you can take revenge," -_ thecreepy voice in his head. was sounded.

The young rat put his paw to his forehead.

Yes, it's true - nothing.


	15. Chapter 15

Vitch looked around. It was a convenient time, the rat was dragged back to the end of the camp to let him go with Harry the Muse after everyone would go from this place, and while beasts gathered belongings hastily, sharpened weapons, and it was so turmoil that the little rat was needed.

The only thing that bothered him was that Mattimeo, who picked up stones for the sling near the camp, had to come back soon.

But Vtch could try. The rat was again not guarded, and the young rat laughed softly to himself.

Noone will stop him have some fun!

The little rat took biting twig and, playing with it, went to the prisoner.

"Well, who is sitting here with us?" Vitch in feigned friendliness had distorted his voice and raised the whipping cane slowly.

The rat looked up in surprise.

Puny creature laughed nastily over him:

"Come on, master's henchman, what are you going to do now, eh?"

Crack!

Vitch slapped the rat in his face, understanding that robe protects rat's skin from blows.

The prisoner screamed because of surprise and pain.

The young rat started jumping around his kinsman, rewarding him with more and more punches.

"Ha ha, there's no your fellowmen and your precious Malkariss, is there? Noone can stop me and put in chains... Take that and that.. and tha.. "

"Vitch!"

Someone grabbed his paw and pulled it back painfully. The young rat spun around, quivering with anger.

Of course, it was Mattimeo - the eternal hero.

"Vitch, how could you? What are you doing?" The mouse rhetorically asked , trying to take away twig from the angry rat.

But Vitch anticipated such outcome of his trick, so he threw his proven tool to the mouse.

"You stop shoving me about, mouse. That one..." he pointed by trembling in mock perturbation paw on lying rat. "That one... called me a dirty weakling and wished me to die soon..."

"You lie!" The rat howled. Impudent deception pissed off even this eternally silent creature. "I did not say anything to him, he went to me and began to beat!"

Vitch pulled out his paw from Mattimeo's paw and, throwing the twig to the ground, closed his face by paws.

" Let's bring everything down on me.. weakling... jerk ... Nothing else I do not hear in my address..." he whimpered.

The mouse took the little rat by his elbow and almost force took him away from the black-robed rat.

This whole situation was reminiscent of the episode in the past, which Matti wanted out of his head. Does memory return to Vitch in such way? In such his behavior?

The little mouse hoped that the young rat, forgetting everything, will be different beast if they teach him good deeds and treat him well, but this...

Vitch removed нис paws from his muzzle, and it was unclear whether he was crying really, or only was pretending. Mattimeo lost in conjecture - what had happened, but the mouse could not resist of perturbation.

"How could you do such things?! To beat a bound one, how don't you understand, that it is... it is disgusting!"

" He had insulted me," the little rat stuck to his guns grimly.

" So what? He is bounded!"

" Look, Matti, believe me, if he was free, he'd kill you, your father, and everyone he could get. He doesn't need your protection!"

The mouse sighed, trying to explain the obvious.

"Yes, but this is the difference between them and us, we do not beat a prisoners and do not torture a defenseless. It's disgusting, how you do not understand this?"

Vitch was silent.

"Okay, do not come anymore to that rat. What were you doing there?"

" I went near by my own business. What's the matter?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the order of Mathias about hit the road.

They moved together, and everyone was silent. The rat was sent with Harry the Muse to the South.

Vitch was at a loss, on the one hand he was angry because he was not allowed to take revenge, it was so nice in the last time... But on the other hand that Mattimeo stopped him, awakened in the little rat strange sensations. To beat a fixed ones is disgusting... Even if he had hurt you?

But somehow Vitch felt better not getting revenge that getting it.


	16. Chapter 16

Vitch was lying down with closed eyes, his breathing was steady, and anybeast would have thought that the small rat slept.

He did not know why he did that, maybe it was a long-standing habit not to fall asleep immediately, but pretend it to hear something, know something that is not meant for his ears.

The beasts were moving the rest of the day and stopped to rest only late at night. They set up camp quickly, had dinner and went to bed.

The children slept together, guarded by two shrews, Vitch was lying between Mattimeo and Sam and Tess slept to the left of Matti.

And here the quiet voice of the female mouse was sounded.

"Mattimeo? Are you sleeping?"

"Not yet, and what's matter?" There was a sleepy whisper back.

" I want to talk to you," it was sound that Tess moved closer to the little mouse. "He's sleeping?"

Vitch realized that she was talking about him, and carefully snored.

"In my opinion, yes, he is, but what's matter?"

" I wanted to talk ... about your friendship. I think you're spending too much time with him. You are quite abandoned of your real friends these days."

The mouse sighed.

"Tess, I'm sorry. But I believe that I do the right thing. I feel that he needs me more..."

"Wait, Matti!" Tess raised her voice a little became worrying."I understand that you want to help. You feel responsible for him. But you have to understand, that he is blame for everything that happened to him. Do you want to save someone who does not want to be saved? After all, how many times he was able to make the right choice, but never, never, he did a good deed."

"Tess..."

"After all, look, when we sheltered him in the Abbey, he was able to say that he was sent to spy on? And then? Each time he chose not our side, he gladly used his power over us, laughing at our misfortune. Even when we went back home when it was over, he decided to escape, and still wanted to be with this fox. I do not want you to flog a dead horse, Matti."

"I do not do useless thing. I do not want to be hypocritical, as helped someone, and then go wherever you want, despite the fact that he had nowhere to go. I did not run after him, but I wanted to do it, and, I think this was my fault."

"And I believe that your father was right to stop you. You'll see, he will return his memory and he become the same as he was. Or he already have become. I do not believe that Oartail attacked him first. Do you remember how he provoked you? Probably, he did the same thing."

Vitch listened to the conversation, sometimes even forgetting to snore, but in time remembered to do it. All took an unexpected turn.

"Tess, I do not know what he did or did not do. I know what I did. I am responsible for myself. And I want to do my utmost to help him. I promised to be his friend."

"Even if we have to quarrel with you? We, your real friends?"

"And how it could embroil us?" The mouse's voice irritated was sounded. "Why should I choose?"

"Why do we have to be friends with him? Did you give us a choice? I don't even want to know him, after what he did. Yes, I feel sorry for him, but nothing more."

"Well, do not communicate with him. I do not see any contradiction. Let's sleep."

The mouse wiggled on the bed, wrapping up in a blanket.

"No. Matti. Matti!" Tess called.

"Well?"

"You have to choose - he or we."

Oh, stop it, Tess."

"No, I will not stop. How do not you understand? Do you remember what he had told about Hugo? About Mrs. Bankvole? Have you forgotten?"

"I have not forgotten."

"So you're not going to be friends with him?"

The rat somehow froze and clenched his fists . Oddly, the friendship of a mouse was not needed him, and seemed a burden, but here again the choice was - he or someone else...

Noone ever chose him.

Even his own relatives abandoned him.

And for some reason now to expect that the mouse will reject him, it was especially painfully.

"Of course I will!" Mattimeo, said indignantly almost aloud."Tess, what a nonsense?"

He was angry at her and could not understand why he had to refuse Vitch. How didn't she understand that this small rat ...

She really didn't understand...

"Finel," Tess whispered." Be friends with him, and I am no longer your a friend."

There was a rustle - the mouse turned away from Matti.

"Well, okay," Mattimeo muttered, shielding a blanket.

Tess, and Vitch too, everyone was waiting for that the mouse will change his mind, to say that he would not be friends with the rat that had done them so much evil, but Mattimeo was silent.

The mouse, the female mouse and the small rat was laing down nearby, carefully pretending sleepy, but none of them fell asleep until morning.

"I'm doing the right thing," Mattimeo thought . "I feel so. He more than anyone needs me right now. Tess will understand soon!"

The female mouse was upset: "How could he, after all, that made this little rat, choose him? Oh, it's his generosity... "

But Vitch was puzzled most of all. "Why Matimeo didn't refuse me? After all, he likes this mouse, it's obvious. They are old friends. And I was their enemy, it is also understandable. So why? Why?"


	17. Chapter 17

When morning came, beasts began to gather in a way.

Mattimeo thought that Tess stop sulking, but the female mouse spoke to him only in the case, so, an outside observer would not have realized that something was wrong, but the mouse noted that Tess was decided to be "not friends" with him . Sighing, Matti leave her alone.

Vitch was in a very meditative state this morning. He could not understand why Mattimeo, for whom he was the enemy abandoned "his real" friends because of him.

The rat threw stones in a small stream in the middle of the camp and scratched his head hard, taking advantage of the fact that everyone is too busy to stop him.

His brains obviously did not work as they used to, because he did not understand anything. He was a spy, said the female mouse, was sent to Redwall. If so - why they saved him?

Why was he in bondage? Did he commit offense Slagar? Did he do something wrong?

But if mice didn't like him, so he did not help the prisoners and slaves. So it was in the other. And what?

He threw another stone.

"Having a good time, ratscum?"

Vitch almost jumped in surprise. Beside him his enemy stood - Oartail.

Vile creature stood and smiled grimly to the little rat. Vitch looked around there were a lot of beasts and already took a deep breath to scream harder when the otter stopped him with gesture.

"Oh, calm down. I know how you right now scream. "Help me, murder..." I just wanted to tell you, rat, that sooner or later, but probably sooner, they will realize who you are. I remembered - I saw you with this fox when you walked past our work," Oartail leaned toward the young rat and hissed continued. "So, when they expel you, I'll find you. I promise you. I'll wait."

Before Vitch could say something, the otter went away, singing something deliberately innocuous.

Vitch pulled in front his paws, they were trembling. He was shaking like a fever.

Vitch slammed his fist on the ground, muttering his favorite curse.

"That scum! Even dares to threaten me... "Will wait", my front teeth!"

The rat hurriedly got up and went closer to Mattimeo. It would be better if he was under the protection of this mouse.

The mouse was again busy with something, he cleaned and sharpened weapons of shrews. He looked dejected, it was obvious that he was going through because of the quarrel with Tess.

Vitch sat next to Matti.

"Hi!" The mouse said friendly, it was clear thet he hid his bad mood courageously.

"Hi! The small rat answered .

They were silent for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Vitch asked, closely examining his friend. At such moments, he was angry with his brains, this memory loss made him helpless, he always felt that others know about him much more than he did about them and about himself. However, it was so.

"Yes of course. Help me, please, to clean the rapiers," Matti handed weapons to the rat, but he did not move.

" I had heard your conversation yestarday," Vitch blurted suddenly . "And I think that Tess is right. I do not understand why you are helping me, if I am your enemy."

The mouse became irritated and quit his job.

"To eavesdrop, in fact, is bad. And on the second, I'm not going to listen to this nonsense."

Mattimeo again took the rapier and began to rub it with sand.

"Why is it nonsense?" Vitch insisted, trying to catch Mattimeo's look. "She's right, it's true. She said I was with the fox. So why are you protecting me?"

" Because... Because..." Matti looked at the rat, and suddenly smiled. "Who cares why. The main thing is that you are no longer alone. Right?"

First the mouse thought that he wanted to give to his former enemy one more chance, but it was not quite true. He just thought that Vitch became what he has become because of what he has always been alone. He had no relatives and friends. And not everyone can be strong and stay good beast in such a situation.

" You're a good one, Mattimeo," Vitch said quietly and began to clean the rapier.

Words were not necessary.

When they finished it, Matti went to bring weapons to shrews and the little rat decided to walk through the camp. His eyes came across Tess - the mouse silently washed the dishes, and it was evident that she was upset about the quarrel with Matti.

In the first time Vitch wanted to do something for another beast.

"It is unfair that these two are angry at each other for no reason," he thought.

"Hi, Tess!" The young rat called the mouse.

She turned around, and in her eyes he noticed the same surprised and incredulous expression as in many others, except for Matti.

"Hello..." Tess began pick up the dishes hurriedly, she was afraid of Vitch.

"Wait, Tess," the small rat sat down beside her."Do not go away. I mean... Oh, you have to make up a quarrel with Matti! He is so upset because of the quarrel. It is not necessary to quarrel with him because of me."

The mouse blinked.

"You ... you ...

"Yes, I overheard your conversation yesterday. In the best tradition of a spy. I can promise that I will try not to communicate with him, if you do not want it. It is not difficult for me, I'm used to be alone."

Be used to be alone...

Vitch stood up to leave, but Tess stopped him.

"Vitch, wait!"

The rat stopped.

The mouse came up to him.

"I was not right. How could I say that? I make up a quarrel with nim," she smiled."Let's be friends together."

The fact that Vitch decided to sacrifice himself for others was unusual, so he became different to Tess. And with such Bitch she wanted to chat and be friends.

The rat automatically started scratching his head, thinking about the words of the mouse, and Tess awoke maternal instinct:

"Stop scratching the wound!" She ordered with Iron voice."You heard that it's not allowed. Let me make you an ointment that will reduce itching. And then we'll go to quarrel with Mattimeo."


	18. Chapter 18

Vitch lay on the soft grass, his paws were behind his head.

His mood was just great - some days they went, without much rest, and now stopped to make camp.

But it became much easier to go - around was covered with grass fields, on which was to tread softly and pleasantly.

The sun warmed lying little rat, he was fed, and moreover Tess and Auma picked up strawberries and shared with others, his head did not hurt and did not even scratched, so Vitch's thoughts floated in his head slowly and serenely.

Even worries about Oartail receded into the background, "Well, to hell with him," the young rat thought.

Vitch lazily pulled the paw out from under the head and took another berry from the hill of strawberries that lay beside him.

" I'm happy," he said to himself, sending a strawberry in his mouth.

"I'm glad for you!"

Above him Sam the squirrel was standing.

Vitch coughed in surprise almost choking with berries and sat down. It was a little embarrassing, the squirrel heard his innermost thoughts.

In general, it was strange... Most recently, he said that he was unhappy, and now - that he was happy. In such a short time.

Maybe for the happiness he was needed a few things. Probably…

Although, of course, to think that everything is worked out, he would like to be somebeast important, to be somebeast, whom everybeast listen to his words.

To have authority. And the power…

"It's a job for somebeast like yourself, the chance to prove you can handle power."

"Will you help us to gather twigs for the fire? squirrel's voice snatched Vitch from memories.

"Yes, of course," the small rat stood up. They went to a small grove near the camp.

The beasts picked up branches, Sam suddenly saw a bush with nuts nearby.

"Oh, nuts!" he exclaimed."I'll go and gather them."

"Well, ok," Vitch continued to pick up branches, when suddenly through the opening between the trees he saw Harry the Muse and Matthias.

Most likely, the eagle-owl came back and wanted to talk to Warrior about something, but not with others, so they moved here.

The rat gently put the twigs to the ground and went closer, hiding behind trees and wrap himself up in cloak.

Vitch pressed his back against a tree and pricked up ears.

"... took that bandits to the South, Harry the Musa did not said in verse, so the conversation was "about the business," as he called it.

"Thank you, Harry," the mouse's voice sounded. "We are very grateful to you for everything."

"Mathias, I wanted to ask ... " the voice of the eagle-owl has become even more serious. "How long are you going to keep with yourself this guy?"

"What guy?" Matthias was surprised.

"Well, this ... this little rat. You're not going to bring him to your home, to Redwall?"

"No, of course not," the warrior answered quickly, and because of this haste Vitch's heart sank.

There was a reason that he had no place among them. A serious reason. Was it the fact that he was a spy for the fox?

The eagle-owl continued:

"So why do we lead him with you further in your land? In my opinion, now it is the time to take him to the South too. I can do it."

"No, Harry, that would be too cruel," Mathias quickly protested on quite reasonable reasoning of the eagle-owl. "Firstly, he is still not very well, and besides, he's a rat of woodlands and he will not be able to live in the south."

"But those weasels were from woodlands too," Harry the Muse said reasonably. "In my opinion, more cruel is to lead him along with you, and then to close the door before his muzzle. It is better to do it sooner. He will live in the South somehow... And he knew what he was doing, when he joined a gang of slavers."

"No, Harry... I can't do it..."

Some rustling alerted Vitch, he saw movement in the bushes, in the right of him he saw a metal tip of an arrow which was directed…

Right on Mathias.

"Watch out, watch out!" the little rat cried out involuntarily, at the same time he ran out from behind the tree.

The Warrior reacted instantly - he evaded flown very close flying arrow, then he grabbed Vitch's paw and pulled him back, shielded the little rat with himself.

"To the ground! Harry the Muse, take wing! Go here, there are enemies here!"

The eagle-owl flew into the air, and arrows flew from the forest. Matthias beat them with the sword, dodged and called on friends for help.

Vitch fell down to the ground, covering his head with paws. Shrews and Jess the Squirrel ran at the call of the Warrior.

Seeing the squirrel the little rat remembered that her son was among the enemies.

Shrews opened fire in response and Vitch cried:

"There's Sam, Sam in the forest!"

Jess like red lightning darted into the forest, taking the sword from Mathias, before anyone could stop her.

Shrews dragged Vitch even further, shielded Mathias, and the owl flew over the trees.

" I've grabbed their ringleader," the squirrel yelled . The flow of arrows stopped immediately.

The Warrior and the couple of shrews moved to her voice, into the deep of the forest.

The rest of the shrews and Vitch peered intently into the gaps between the trees.

Then the beasts breathed freely - Jess jumped into the glade with Sam, then shrews went , Mathias was the last, covering the rear.

"Faster, go away! Light the fires, it is some ferrets, they are savages, they have to be afraid of fire."

They made fires near the forest, and beasts hastily broke camp.

Everyone went in silence, looking back apprehensively.

They stopped at rest only at night, made camp quickly, Mathias went to the little rat, who stood away from the fire, where crowded dibbuns and shrews were discussing the recent incident.

"You have saved my life. Thank you," said the Warrior to Vitch.

"I have?" rat's eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, you're warned, and I dodged the arrows. They could kill me."

"Oh, this ... I don't think, that it is real salvation," Vitch looked away and, having broken a blade of grass crushed it in his fist. "You want to send me to the South?" Suddenly he asked.

" To the South?"

"Well yes. I heard your conversation with Harry the Muse," the young rat grinned."You should be more careful, because I was a spy and know how to listen."

"No, nobody will send you to the South," Mathias frowned."And to overhear is not the most reliable way to find what you need. If you asked me, I would have told you."

"And what do you answer me?" Vitch looked at the mouse.

" That do not worry about it. We go to the woodlands."

"But why? I was with the gang of the fox, and I…

"We are going to Redwall and we go to the woodlands, all together. That's all."

They were silent. Vitch threw a blade of grass on the ground.

"Thank you," he said quietly.


	19. Chapter 19

Vitch stood on top of a small hill, a little away from the camp. His cloak. fluttered in the wind, the young rat put paw to his eyes to protect them from the bright morning sun - the sun always is such in the plains.

Vitch stared ahead at the endless fields covered with tall grass.

Thoughts, thoughts, snatches of memories flashed through his mind, and he tried to catch them like ropes of kites, but could not catch them.

Was he here before? When? With whom?

Vitch worried because of the duality of his situation- on the one hand he was told that everything is fine and nothing to worry about. He was told, that his past did not matter, and did not prevail over him. But there was Oartail and his friends, Harry the Muse, who wanted to take him to the South, were the words of Sam from memories about the fact that all the canes in the forest won't stop him getting Vitch.

Due to the fact that Vitch did not remember what he actually had done, he did not know how to act now. The rat had idea to come early in the morning to Harry the Muse and ask him to take Vitch to the South. But then he changed his mind because Mathias said that they would take him to his native wood lands, so why should he ask for the expulsion? He's not a fool…

The rat was waiting for that memory would come back, come as suddenly as it had disappeared, but the days passed and nothing had changed. And these scraps of obscure memories - could he trust them? Maybe it was the nightmares engendered by his inflamed consciousness? What is false and what is real?

"See the stars, see the moon. Penned around by blackest night. See the diamonds red and purple, Silk and fire and blood and light. See them turning, ever turning. Like a great mandala wheel. Spinning as the fire is burning. What is false and what is real."

What is false and what is real? Why this poem is in his mind?

"Hellsteeth!" Vitch fell to his knees, clutching his head.

"Are you okay?" the rat lowered his paws and turned around. Beside him Auma the badger stood

Suddenly, he was broke.

"No, badger, I'm not OK, I am not! How can I be okay if I do not remember anything, and you ... You!... Do not talk about what had happened! Do you think it's better if I do not know, what I have done, but the others didn't forget that! They want send me to the South! Then - do not want... Why Oartail hates me? Why?"

Vitch stood up and walked closer to Auma.

"I need those memories. I need them to know how I have to behave. To know who I am! I can not be myself without them, no matter how disgusting they are... I need them, and you do not give them to me, and it's so easy!"

The little rat exhausted and became silent. Auma also remained silent. And then she said softly:

"Let's go, I want to show something."

She waved her paw, and Vitch moved after her. They went down the hill and went to the left, further and further away from the camp. And here's another hill, and down there…

A dilapidated burned house like ugly specter stood In the midst of lush green grass.

The beasts came closer - the smell of burning was still there, reminding about itself in the fresh summer air. Nothing was etched it - neither rain, nor pollen…

Vitch automatically touched the burnt black crossbar fence and charred piece of wood crumbled to dust by a weak movement of his fingers.

"This was my home..." Auma whispered. "Here I lived with my dad ... Ever since my mother died."

"W-who have done this?" Vitch asked in a choked voice, from somewhere guessing that this was not just a fire.

And he expected this answer.

"Slagar the Cruel..."

The badger apathetically looking through the rat. She was remembering that day.

".. It was a beautiful morning, I was so cheerful. Dad was going to the foot of the mountains for a meal, and I even asked him to pick up blue flowers. I like them very much... It was not much time passed since he left, and then they came..."

"Slagar's gang?"

"Yes."

"And was I there?"

"No, I had seen you later. When I was captured into slavery and our house was burned down,

I was pulling a cart with other slaves. It took much time to us to get Mossflower. To go was hard. Slagar with a part of the bandits had gone forward, and we were driven by Halftail the stoat. He was very cruel."

She paused. Then, as if forcing herself to speak, she continued:

" In the forest, it was very difficult to go with the cart. Halftail did not let us eat and even drink. Among us was a young otter... I did not ask his name - we were forbidden to talk. So... The otter could not haul the cart ahead and Halftail just killed him. Then he threw the body into the ditch and threw branches. And we went on.

Ringing silence hung in the air, seemed the insects stop to chirp.

"I mean, I hated all of them. I can not forget it. And then when we were waiting in the church when the fox would capture the most valuable his slaves - Mattimeo from Redwall Abbey and the other ... I wanted so much that he would fail! Then I had seen you - you're a spy for the fox, and tald him when the feast would begin in Redwall. They had a holiday, and slavers brought them grief. And then I was pulling the cart with intoxicated children of Redwall, and you whipped my back."

Vitch looked down.

"A lot of things had happened," the young badger continued. " I gave myself a vow to revenge. But when we finally met with dad... When we were released ... I again became the little badger, who was waiting for her father with blue mountain flowers at home home. I want to forget. I just want this, it's true. I want to live, in my new home - in Redwall among friends."

She paused again, and then put her paw on Vitch's shoulder.

"And yes - I have forgiven you..."

"But I was..."

"Yes. But I don't t know how you got there and why, I don't know all the reasons why you were forced to help the fox. I ... I saw that he eventually did with you - put into slavery and tried to kill you. After this transfer, we would not be the same as we were. And you are now not what you were when you whipped my back. I saw you in chains, I saw you with broken head. I don't wish evil to you. But you should not require everyone to make the same decision…"

Vitch sighed and looked again at the ruins of the house of Orlando the Axe.

" And what will become with me now?"

" It can be solved only by yourself. Now Slagar is no more. You can't be afraid of anyone. The past was burned and buried under the ruins of Malkarrisa kingdom. We all are free - you and me."

" I am free…"

"Yes. I want to start a new life in Redwall. And you ... You can become a goodbeast and live in Mossflower. Oryou can join a gang and try again. Only you can choose. We have to come back. I don't want them to find us here. Dad would be upset.

The rat and the badger walked to the camp hurriedly, leaving behind a trail of terrible crime of fox the slaver's gang.


	20. Chapter 20

The group of beasts went on sunny meadows, Mathias went ahead, pointing direction to the others, andr Orlando the Axe was closing.

Vitch briskly walked next to Mattimeo and Tess, continuously talking. Natural talkativeness has return to the rat, sometimes he made fun of the shrews, which then were quarreling with him good-naturedly.

Auma had said that he was free now, and Vitch felt himself so - free. Maybe his memory loss was a gift of fate? The chance to avoid that to which he was sentenced, the chance to start with a clean slate. Maybe it makes no sense to try remember the past.

When everybeast stopped to rest, Vitch entertained the young redwallers and Auma with Jube showing gambling in the pebbles, which he had remembered somehow. Rat's paws flew over the ground, lined with squares, and his stones deftly moved to the target.

It was an old rat game, a game of pirates and other scum. But nobeast knew this, dibbuns - because they saw the game for the first time, and Vitch... Vitch... just did not remember.

The young rat won again, and dibbuns dissatisfied grumbled: "You always win! It's unfair!"

"Are you probably cheating," Mattimeo asked jokingly, but Vitch smiled and, with quick movement of his paw, emptied out a few pebbles under his cloak.

Everybeastl gasped.

"Well, of course I'm cheating," the little rat explained. "You can not win honestly in this game."

The dibbuns laughed.

"But how you could you do it so discreetly!" Matti admired. "I was watching your paws and had not notice anything..."

"it's nothing, " Vitch said proudly. He liked the attention of beasts and wanted to build on the success. "I can take off your belt so that you will not even feel it!"

"Come on, try it!" The mouse was on his guard.

Dibbuns breathless and slightly moved away from the rat and the mouse as if it were some kind of circus.

Vitch smiled broadly and clapped Mattimeo's shoulder.

"Mattimeo, buddy! We haven't seen for ages!" The rat embraced the mouse and Matti hugged Vitch too with surprise.

"What is it with you? What means "haven't seen?""Mattimeo asked when Vitch let him go.

The rat winked and overlooking of real magician fished out from his cloak Matti's belt.

The mouse with surprised stared first at his belt, and then at his tunic, it was without belt! Wow - Vitch pulled off his belt so that he did not even notice!

Everybeast clapped their hands, but Mattimeo was shocked and silent.

This meant that Vitch was a thief... and this game, in which it was impossible to win honestly...

Mattimeo felt cold. Vitch remembered such things about what it would be better to forget and he did it unconsciously... How to save him from this?

They walked on, and the mouse still agonized of foreboding. Vitch was also silent. Some strange memories troubled his soul.

 _...It is as a piece of cake, noble sir. I can clean out your pockets so you do not feel it!_

 _The fox muzzle in colorful mask leans forward:_

 _"Do not feel, you say?"_

 _A splash stinking breath, but Vitch is not frightened. After all, he is free now, and the fox is not his master yet._

 _He continues saucily:_

 _"I bet!"_

 _Vitch pulls his little weedy paw, and the fox hits him on it with his big paw in blue glove._

 _Next it is simple. Vitch begins to play performance "poor orphan" holding fox knees._

 _"Help me, oh, noble sir!"_

 _The fox with disgust shoves the sniveling rat, but rising, Vitch smirks._

 _"Your handkerchief, sir!"_

 _The surprise was not visible on the muzzle of the fox, covered with mask, only approving silence was an answer to the focus of the rat._

 _"Excellent... Excellent..." Slagar gnashes._

Yes, in that time Vitch called him simply "Slagar", not "master" or "chief."

 _The fox moved to the young rat._

 _"Yes, you are usefull for me. But not for the role of a thief... You'll be my spy ...!_

 _Spy!_

"Hellsteeth.." Vitch whispered, clutching his head, realizing that he was losing consciousness. Somebeast had picked him up, and he plunged into the darkness.


	21. Chapter 21

... Vitch was awakened with some screams, it was a feeling that there was a real battle.

The rat barely opened his eyelids. The sunlight was hitting in his eyes. Vitch turned, looking around. He was lying inside of a wooden room, which walls were round, most likely it was a hollow tree. Young hedgehogs were running around and screaming loudly.

"Give me! This is my food!"

"Give me!"

"I am hungry!"

Vitch stood up on his elbow.

"Enough! Go out! All of you! An stout adult hedgehog began to drive away with big ladle her daughters, they rolled head over heels out of the round of the opening door. It was much quieter.

The hedgehog turned to Vitch.

"Oh, you're awake!" She exclaimed.

Vitch sat down and put his paw to his head, because of loud cries it began to hurt.

Rosyqueen - and that was she - came to the rat, and with worried frown pinched his side.

"Ouch!"

"You're awfully thin," the hedgehog issued a verdict. "Come on, get up, I'll give you something to eat."

Vitch sat at a long table, located in the center of a hollow tree and ate vegetable soup, taking a large piece of bread. Rosyqueen sat across from him.

"Everybeast were worried when you wake up, but I said - you just were sleeping. Oh, I know, ten daughters and a son, I do something understand in such things," she chatted. "But you look very haggard... This damn fox!" She angrily glared."He has brought so much grief in our land... I have seen the same exhausted beasts in your party... Former slaves. And my son Jube, he was quite different when he returned," the hedgehog dabbed her eyes with a apron. "He became thin and sad. He was the ringleader before - he laughed, fought, pricked everybeast with thorns... And now he is quiet. My poor little Jubelation..."

The rat almost choked. The piece did not climb into his throat - he saw with his own eyes, how much grief he with Slagar caused to the hedgehog, who was so kind to him.

No, he was not free, as Auma had said. Everybeast has to pay the bills. He still has to pay for everything, it can't be helped…

"Why you do not eat?" Rosyqueen roused. "Come on I'll put you more."

"I..." Vitch wanted to confess, but he could not. He could not say, "I with fox the slaver drove your Jube..."

His gloomily expression of muzzle the hedgehog interpreted in her own way.

"Do not be sad,"she poured more soup into a cup. "All our family decided to settle in Redwall too. They say there is a hedgehog, Ambrose Spike, the keeper of cellars. Redwall will heal our wounds. And my Jubilation will become thick and cheerful again. And you too…

"I..." The young rat put off a spoon and bread, lifted his head. Looking into Rosyqueen's eyes, he blurted out:

"I was in Slagar's gang. The gang of slavers. I was his spy. I do not remember exactly what I have done, but it does not matter. I was with them until the end, until the kingdom of Malkariss. I helped to catch slaves."

He stopped, unable to continue, and stood up. He badly wanted to escape, but he forced himself to stand in front of a mother, whose son was taken away into slavery. But to look into her eyes he could not, and looked down.

The hedgehog at first confused, but then she came to the rat, who looked at the floor. His paws were trembling, and Rosyqueen put her paws on his shoulders.

"Look, do not take on too much," she said simply. "You got in touch with a bad company, but you're just a dibbun. What could you do? Just what you'd been taught by those who were close to you. And they were evil and cruel creatures."

Vitch looked up.

"It is not quite true. I happily ran errands. I'm not as good beast as you think."

"But nobeast tried to get you out of there. Of course, you did everything with joy. This was your chance to survive."

Because of her kind words he almost cried.

"But I had the chance. I was in Redwall... and still... Had chosen Slagar."

"You again is too demanding to yourself. Even adults do not always make the right choice, especially in difficult circumstances. Who knows how it would be safer? Dibbuns just have to eat, to sleep and wash in time, to study and to play. But, unfortunately, it does not always happen so. Come on, eat up the soup, and don't talk about this anymore."

Dibbuns ran in the tree house. "Oh, you're awake!" They yelled.

Vitch suddenly looked seriously at Jube.

"You've got great mom, Jubelation," he said quietly.


	22. Chapter 22

The beasts move forward, now they were in a larger format. The ten daughters of Jabez Stump and his wife Rosyqueen joined to the go became joyful, because young hedgehogs funny argued and fought among themselves, engaging the others in playful fight and Rosyqueen decided to to fatten former slaves and Vitch, therefore, halts on a variety of snacks, lunches, snacks and other such things began to happen more often.

It had become harder to go, glades with overgrown grass gave way to trees, here and there trunks of beeches and elms began to appear. And finally, the squad went to the forest, which trees stood like a wall.

"Mossflower Woods!" There was a joyful voice of Mathias.

Everybeast gleefully yelled. Of course, the forest was very large, but still, after all, they would come to the goal soon... would come to Redwall!

Vitch had a strange feeling - he looked at a thick tree trunks, touched their warm, because of sun, barks. His paws trod on the moss softly. The young rat looked around, looked up at the trees. Through leaves sunlight fell.

His chest ached - what is it? Something familiar, native…

These places seemed so painfully familiar that Vitch would like to embrace these elms, aspen and beeches.

He remembered this woods. He felt it…

The beasts camped in the open, they called Vitch to dinner, but he mumbled something unintelligible and walked away from the bustle.

There was a kaleidoscope of images in his head. This forest was full of them, the little rat felt that a large part of his life took place in this forest.

The little rat moved further away from the noise, and then sat on the sun-warmed hill. Stretching paws on the soft moss, Vitch stared ahead blankly. It seemed to him that if he would wait for a little, then he would remembered.

Remembered everything…

 _He remembered the rain, the rain lashed his muzzle, his eyes, his cloak got wet and heavy. But the mood was upbeat. ... This feeling of power…_

 _He also lashed. In his paw was flexible twig._

 _"Come on, you dozy Redwall lot, keep marching. Be strong like Mattimeo. After all, he's the one you can thank for all this. Slagar wouldn't have chanced within a mile of your precious abbey if he hadn't wanted to steal the famous warrior's son._ "

 _He hears his voice, as if it is a voice of a stranger, and if it is from afar. He hears undisguised schadenfreude, pleasure._

 _Tim the mouse, brother of Tess, ducked under a whippy aspen branch, swung it forward and it swiped Vitch across the chest._

 _Splash!_

Vtch started and opened his eyes. He massaged his temples, his head throbbed with pain. These memories…

A branch snapped behind him and the rat turned back. Nobody... He clutched his head again. What is it with him? On the one paw he wanted to remember everything, and on the other - to start a new life, forgotten everything . Who was he? How could he to live farther, what to do? Always, always, he did what he was told, he knew it. And now he had to decide by himself...

A strange restlessness seized him. He felt as if somebeast was looking at his back.

The young rat again sharply looked back and…

Met with unblinking eyes of Oartail the otter!

"Hellsteeth!" Vitch yelled, jumping up and shaking with all his body."In the name of the fang...

" The rat spewed curses, trying to get rid of chilling horror that caused him this creature."When will you stop it, the fang breaks you?"

"Stop what, ratcum?" Oartail asked calmly Veslohvost, which infuriated Vitch more.

"This!" The rat screamed, shaking his fists. He pointed with a trembling paw on the otter. "All these your little tricks!" he said, having a little breathless, more calmly and in a threatening tone. "Listen, otter, I know what you're trying. I'm warning you, do not bother me. Do not bother me,understood, you, otter skin? Do not get on my nerves, do not follow me, let's disperse in an amicable way. You do not bother me not, I do not bother you. Otherwise, you would be in trouble."

"And what will happen, ratface? You'll make a little show, like at the last time?" The otter raised an eyebrow.

VItch was so angry that he almost jumped from rabies.

"Oh, this!" He yelled. "You, you first started it! You with your friends thought how to destroyme! Loony! Snitch! I did this to make you leave me alone, understood?

Oartail took a step toward the rat.

"I understood," he said in a frightening whisper. "But now we are alone, and we can talk face to face."

Vitch never was brave, and now his nerve failed him. He took one step back, then another, turned and ran away…

Turning over his shoulder, the rat saw that Oartail was running after him, running slowly and steadily, relentlessly. Vitch sprinted faster and suddenly felt his paws sinking into something friable.

The rat made a few more steps, and realized with horror that he was plunging. It was quicksand!


	23. Chapter 23

"A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah!" Vitch yelled, frantically swinging paws, but that made him began to sink into the sand even faster.

In a fit of desperation he pulled forward paws and yelled in a panic. "Help! A-a-a-a-ahh! I'm dying! He-e-e-e-e-lp!"

He shouted, of course, automatically. He did not believe that the help could come, especially when his pursuer cautiously approached the edge of the quicksand. The otter stared how a terrible sand was absorbing the rat.

The lifeless eyes stared at Vitch without blinking. The rat felt that this was the end, that this was the face of Death.

So that was how it would be ...

But he shouted. He could not stop it and his lungs, seemed, would burst from the pain and stress.

"HELP ME-E-E-E-E!"

And then something unexpected had happened.

Oartail held out his paw to Vitch.

The rat had no time to think about the reasons for this outstretched paws convulsively in frantic wish to live, he grabbed the otter's clawed paw.

Oartail leaned back, pulling out the rat from the sand, Vith fell to the ground, coughing nervously and shaking off the sand, he was trembling.

"It would be too easy, rat. Too easy,"said the otter, towering over him. And then Oartail turned and ran away.

"Go away!" Vitch cursed, trying to stand up, a terror paralyzed his being.

Faster, faster to the camp! The ran away from this terrible place, away from this terrible otter, away from the memories. In the camp he was asked where he had been, and he said something plausible. He did not want to talk about it. He was alone again, and again he had memories, which he preferred no one to share.

Vitch ate warm vegetable soup, and even chatted with Sam about something, but his thoughts were far away.

Again, the fate gave him another chance. Again death looked him straight in the muzzle, but he slipped away once more ... Again and again, he - a small, insignificant, escaped death and lived. So it was need that he survived. Survived, despite the fact that he was an orphan, despite the terrible way in Malkariss, despite the fact that he could die many times on the way, could die because of the wounds of fox weapon, could drown in quicksand...

Vitch looked up at the trees swaying crown. The sun was setting, and the pinkish-red light jumping on the leaves.

He survived once more...

Vitch suddenly realized that he did not want to be afraid inner anxiety, this fear so ingrained in his skin, in his thoughts, that obsequious behavior, that constant looking back at the strong ones - how he tired of that!

He was afraid, afraid of all his life, as long as he could remember himself, he feared. The fear corroded his soul, nothing of real Vitch left. That's why he did not represent value ... For nobeast.

And what benefit did he take from the fact that he was constantly afraid? What happened with him after he guessed all wishes of strong beasts in a gang? Were they friends with him? Or they mocked him?

What did he deserve for being loyal to that Slagar, for fearing him so much? The wounds on the head and amnesia?

The path of fear led him to nowhere, brought him into slavery and loneliness, led him to a bloody bandages and headaches.

By the devil, he will no longer shake and wriggle. He will try to be himself. This is nothing more dangerous than to be miserable henchman.

The first thing he decided to talk frankly to Oartail, when he would return. Vitch to stupor afraid of this creature, and therefore this fear he wanted to stop in the first place.

After all, what Oartail could do with him? To beat him? Ha, he was beaten more than once. To kill? Let him try... While no beast was luck with it. Well, to say something offensive... Vitch heared a lot of bad names.

The felt that he even breathe easier. To make a decision was the most difficult, but when he made it, he felt that he had become much bolder, though still not make any courageous act.

... And away from the camp Oartail, tha former slave, crouched near a tree. He looked at his trembling paws and muttering:

"I could not ... I could not ..."

Then, in the darkness and horror of Malkariss he swore to avenge for dying friends. To revenge to all slavers. But today, when the rat yelled, plunging into the sand, so small and helpless... He could not see the death indifferently.

The otter muffled sobbing.

Yeah, maybe, he just could not, because this little rat was not a real enemy. What an honor was to destroy this miserable creature? If it was for example, the damn fox or Nadaz... or black-robed rats ...

His throat gurgled.

His action, that he helped to his enemy, the little rat, awakened in him memories.

He was again a baby otter, which childhood was absorbed in the darkness of Malkariss mines.

He was so sympathetic and kind... He was laughing at random.

He remembered the clean water of the river, where his parents lived, he remembered how the sun played on the spray, which his younger sister doused him.

Oartail cried because if it was Slagar or black-robed rat, he...

He could not.

He would held out his paw to them...

No matter what.

Anyway


	24. Chapter 24

Vitch hadn't talked to Oartail neither that nor the next day. The otter avoided him after that incident, by purposely wedged in the crowd of hedgehog to help - hellteethl! - peeling onions, then he joined to Matthias and Mattimeo unnatural talking about everything, then he sat with his fellows-slaves, and the rat, though, decided to have the courage, didn't want come near by these guys. And their feud was a personal matter and Vitch somehow felt awkward to drag out all of this for public discussion, so the days passed, and the squad was moving farther and farther along the narrow forest trails, to Redwall. To Redwall...  
At first Vitch walked in the middle of the squad, but then, more unconsciously slowing down his steps, he was among the closing ones.

The rat looked at the backs of the beasts and knew that he could not share their impatience.

Here they are ahead - Matthias and Mattimeo, a father and a son. They rushed home, where they were waiting for by their wife and mother - Cornflower the mouse. Nearby them mouse Tess was rapidly going through by her delicate paws, and her brother was going too. They are impatient to hug their parents too.

A mother and a son - squirrels Jess and Sam were hurrying home too. They sometimes climbed trees to see what was ahead, and were talking funny. Sam's father and Jess's husband was waiting for them too.

And here are skinny hare Basil and Cheek the otter. It's funny to think, but it feels like the old hare decided to adopt this orphan. Anyway, they look like a family.

A family…

Everybeast are returning to Redwall, to family and relatives, to friends.  
And even those who had not lived in the Abbey - noisy family of Stumps and even plain badgers Auma and Orlando accelerated their steps. Sir Harry the Muse was flying, clinging to tree branches. Vitch heard that he begged Matthias to take him with them, having heard about the hospitality and cooks of the Abbey.

And all of them had hoped, and probably not in vain, to find peace in Redwall, to find there home and shelter. Stumps family even left their home-tree to live in Redwall.

A hope was ahead of them.

And what about former slaves? Of course, they hurried there, encouraged by stories about Abbey of Matthias and the others. Those who had nowhere to go, of course, hastened to Redwall, where they had been promised shelter, food and friendship.

And what about him?

Despite all the assurances that his past was burned as the home of Orlando...

In spite of this, Vitch felt, that the end of the way would not make him happy. While he is going with all of them together, they seemed out of time, they are in the way, and the past and the future do not disturb their souls. It is like they have an amnesia too.

Yes, temporary amnesia.

But when they will come home...

They will remember.

Remember everything.

Vitch hesitated and clashed into a beast who was slowly going just ahead of him.

"Excuse me."

It was Cynthia the bankvole.  
She was almost as slow as the rat was, and she was looking somehow blankly ahead. She looked quite cheerless. Strange, because she was coming back to home.

"Can't wait to be home, huh?" Vitch asked just to break the awkward silence. As a cloack he was covered with familiar feeling - it is necessary to try to establish a relationship and start conversations with everybeast in the band, even those from whom he just sick.

"No, not at all, "said the vole with such irritation in her voice, that Vitch stared at her in surprise.

Cynthia had always been a quiet little vole, during the journey, she was imperceptible, after that first flash of anger when he first woke up, the rat did not communicate with her. She was always away from the group of dibbuns, led by Mattimeo and Tess and she was so ... inconspicuous.

They continued on their way, but now, because of the stop, the rat and the vole went even further away from the main part of beasts, shrews the closing were, but noisy comrades of Log-a-Log were also far from the rat and the vole.

Vitch and Cynthia went, though alone, and no beast could hear them.

"But why?" Vitch asked finally.

"And you yourself how, can't wait?" Cynthia turned her head and looked at him with unblinking black eyes, round as buttons.  
"Well, I'm a different matter," the rat turned and, looking ahead blankly continued, not even to her, but to himself. "I ... I want that this way never ends. While I'm going, I'm here with everybeast. Maybe even some of them are my friends. I'm not alone. And when we are walking, we can neither think about anything. But ... When we, or rather, not _we_ ... When _they_ will come home... I need to make a decision. And I do not know what decision. Most likely to leave them. To leave, but where? I'm afraid the end of our way."

There was a silence.

"But you are a different matter! " Vitch repeated and looked at the vole, which walked near him listlessly. "I thought you are, like all redwallers, waiting to return home."

They, without saying a word, looked forward to Warrior and his son walking briskly , Tess and Tim, Jess and Sam, to everybeast, hurrying on this forest road.

"I thought so too," Cynthia did not know why she was answering to this rat, but she could not keep a pain inside, and the other beasts filled with joyful anticipation, could not understand her. "Yes, when I was in Slagar's slavery, every time falling asleep, I always thought about Redwall. There was no desire more than to go back, there!" She exclaimed ardently."But now I realize that Redwall, which where was taken the unconscious little vole... It is gone for good," she paused. "They killed my mother, it is clear to you, ratscum?" Cynthia clenched her fists, shook them, but then suddenly wilted, put down her paws, they were hanging along the body like a rag. "I was hoping that your words were a lie. I was hoping all the way that we were under Slagar's whips. But when we were rescued... I had asked. And I was told that you had told the truth. They had really killed my mother and old Hugo. And the queen of sparrows, Wa beak also died trying to help us. Redwall will be no longer former for me," the vole said oddly calm, almost indifferent. "I am afraid to return ... in such Redwall ... Without mom."

Vitch was silent, and what could he say? Some things are irreparable. The rat and the vole slowly went at the end of squad, moving their paws automatically.


	25. Chapter 25

When dinner had ended, Vitch stole a mug of ale, which was pulled from the secret for the time shrew's bags in case that Redwall was near.

The rat quietly slipped away from the noisy and cheerful crowd and sat down, leaning against a tree, in the shadows and silence.

He sipped, feeling that his head was nebulosity. Yes, it was the right thing. He did not want to think. Just some time without thinking - that was all he needed. But thoughts crept into his head, knocking like little hammers. He did not have the strength to cope with this on his own.

Yeah. Often he saw the other beasts got drunk. He himself also tried, but did not understand anything in this muck. Maybe he was just too young. Clean water was always better for him.

Vitch took another sip. The drink was nice and strong. And, it was really... great do not think about anything.

"In my opinion, you're too young for this."

The rat looked up. Mattimeo. Vitch grimaced. Well now it begins...

"Matti, you're not my mother. I was too young for a lot of things, but let's not moralistic."

The mouse took away the mug, and Vitch reluctantly opened his fingers. Mattimeo looked away, searching for words.

"You have been avoiding me and Tess recently. Is there something wrong?

"No," Vitch become silent and realized that he needed to add something. He smiled. "Everything is ok.".

There was a silence, and they could hear the chirping insects.

Mattimeo in a rage threw a mug and slammed his fist on the trunk of a tree.

"Sometimes I just can not imagine what's going on in your head!"

The rat sighed.

"Me too. I don't know what's going on in my head too."

"Have you remembered something?" the mouse asked.

Vitch shook his head.

"There is nothing. Nothing has cleared up. But I learned a lot about myself. And yet I can not believe how I could be such scum!"

"You've had a hard life, "Mattimeo said quickly.

"A hard life... That otter, Cheek had a hard life too. But he is not like me."

"You will change. You need only wish for it!" the mouse said hotly.

Poor Matti! He is worrying about him more than himself is. Ha. All these "you need only wish for it", "start from scratch", "leave the past in the past"... In this words there was something false. Something from fairy tales. That a villian will turn to good side and everybeast will live together happily ever after. And everybeast will have amnesia. No, he do not need this too.

And what does he want? What?

Vitch got up and tried to smile good-naturedly. Still, he was good at pretending.

"I guess I'm just tired. I've to sleep a bit."

Mattimeo gazed into his muzzle, but the expression of Vitch's eyes was impervious. How to understand what's on his mind? What is he thinking about? The mouse still afraid that decided to escape. As then…

Yes,here is not the South Earth, but Mossflower is dangerous too. If only he won't run away!

Matti could not understand why it was so important for him.

He took rat's paw.

"Let's go to. And.. I ask you..

Vitch raised an eyebrow.

"Let's without silly things," Mattimeo finished.

"Don't worry," Vitch smiled a little wider.

He was not going to do any "silly things". The rat lay on his stomach on a mattress next to sleeping Tess and Mattimeo, he propped his head by paws and was staring into the darkness, surrounded by wide trunks of trees of Mossflower, illuminated by fires of guards.

 _When the darkness surrounded you, when the door was closed hard in dead silence, when the shackles onyour paws - the whole life rushes before your eyes. Every another fear is peel off like husks, and you are left alone with yourself._

But then, in the darkness of Malkariss, he did not think about his actions and their consequences.

Oh no. Then all his thoughts were only about to see just a single ray of the sun again, he was ready for everything for it. Yes, on everything.

But now he was safe, and the past began to attack. Now he had a time to think, and the past came to him, comes in all its repulsive creature. It presented a bill. Do you remember how you have done this... or that? Do you remember?

What kind of beast is he? How does he want to live? The fate gave him a chance, and he will use it?

Vitch didn't know answers to these questions. It was always the one thing he wanted before - just to survive.

Although, no ... he always wanted more. He wanted power. Ha, that's ridiculous. The power in paws os such beast like him a cowardly little rat.

"Little rat is captive by woodlanders and badgers," said the reptile. "Scurl can help. Scurl got many keys, Scurl knows the secret paths. They' ll never catch Scurl. But it's not for free, little rat, no, no. Wotchergot? Yes, what can you give Scurl for he will lead you?"


	26. Chapter 26

Vitch got up on his elbow.

"Why do you think I'm that I'm captive, mate?" He asked, still not awakened from his thoughts."Maybe they're my friends."

The newt closed his eyes and and shot twice with his tongue. Then he laughed softly.

"Very funny, rat, very funny. I've seen you here half a season ago - fox an' weaselfellers. And a little rat with them too. Scurl sees everything. And I sawwoodlanders all chained up. You even said that they won't be spared, and the fox told you to keep quiet. And now they're free, and you are among them. Well, do you remember now, little rat?"

"I do."

Vitch was surprised himself about hatred sounded in his voice, but the newt remained calm. He felt himself master of the situation.

He felt himself... safe.

Vitch cautiously sat down on a mattress, fearing to wake Mattimeo. His head has earned familiar impatient chill bristled the hair on the nape. Does Scurl want to play? Vitch will play.

The rat tried to speak crudely in disbelief, curtly. He decided to go ahead, in any case, if something goes wrong, he can just wake Mattimeo.

"Look, Scurl, you say you'd help me out."

The newt nodded.

"Yes, little rat, but not for nothing. No, no, Skerla won't help you for nothing."

"I understood. But listen..." Vitch frowned, as if hesitating. "How do I know you're not with these thick-headed redwallers? I have to be sure."

"With redwallers? With woodlanders?" The newt asked.

"Yes, I must be sure that you're on our side - on the side of Slagar, my master."

"Oh, Scurl is on the side of the fox. Yes, yes. That time Scurl deceived these woodlander fools, took their belongings, and the keys were not given, no, no."

 _He does not know that Slagar's dead. He does not know anything._

He has to try to go ahead.

"Scurl, mate, look yourself - I have nothing now. But if you led me out of the forest, there Slagar and mates are waiting for me. We sold the slaves, got a lot of money, but these shouters pursued us, recaptured some slaves. Slagar decided not to leave it so and followed them to Mossflower "Vitch lied more enthusiastically. "I gaped, and these woodlander bastards took me as prisoner. They want something to bargain with Sly One. I am his spy, he really need me So, Scurl, anyway Slagar will recapture me from these fools. He has experienced beasts, and the rabble will soon stop make sentinels. But if you led me to the master now, he will reward you. He will give you my share of the spoils."

The rat paused, staring at the cold eyes of the reptile. He knew in his heart of Scurl a caution and greed are fighting .

Vitch decided to change the subject a little to defuse the tension. It always works.

"And what could you get from these woodlander idiots?" He asked casually. "They have nothing exept their miserable pelts."

"Oh, they had," the newt roused. "Yes, there were nice little things: soft white rope from the mouse, funny bell from his girlfriend, a bracelet on a tail from the squirrel, green stone from another mouse and flowers from stripedog. Yes, they had given everything to Scurl."

"You're lying," the little rat snorted. "Look, the rope is still on Matti."

The newt stood up, watching the pointing finger of therat - the moon brightly lit white rope on the mouse, Mattimeo slept on his back, and it was clearly visible.

Scurl frowned, and the expression of his muzzle become even more ugly.

"Of course, it's again on him, rat," he hissed."Mouse-warrior, the badger and the squirrel took them away from Scurl."

"How rude. So they are woodlander klutz," Vitch deftly turned his paw and with quick movement untied the knot on the rope on sleeping Mattimeo. He pulled it guietly, and the rope was in his paws now.

As fascinated Scurl watched the small figure wrapped in a cloak, for a few minutes bypassed sleeping dibbuns, skillfully dodging of reflections fires.

"Like so, " children's treasures were back to the newt. The beechnut bell made a low ring ."I'm sorry, too hard to get the stone, and I also didn't find the flowers. And the another things are here."

Scurl silently tied the rope, put the bell around his neck and put the bracelet on his tail.

"Think that this is a deposit. Well, will you led me to my master?" The little rat raised an eyebrow.

The newt hesitated no longer.

"Oh, yes, rat, yes. Follow Scurl."

Vitch stepped behind brisk tail.


	27. Chapter 27

The newt slid over the side of the camp, moving to the end, hiding from the guards fires. He was cautious. Too cautious.

It was not in Vitch's plans, and he called Scurl.

"Hey, lizard," he called softly. "There's not safe to go, let's go on the other side."

The rat waved his paw right. Scurl hesitated - they nearly went out of the camp, there was only one guard post with a sleeping shrew. And in the place where the rat showed terrible warriors was sleeping - the badger and the mouse.

"But..."

"Don't look at this shrew," Vitch whispered quickly."He's only pretending asleep, but if somebeast passes by, he immediately begins to shout. And that Orlando and Mathias are very relaxed, every evening they pumped ales and sleep deeply."

Scurl shot his tongue:

"But wait. Did warriors should not wait for your master to visit? Why they are so careless?"

Vitch called all his cunning to himself.

"Well, because it will be fight, they wake up. There is also a lot of shrews. So they don't worry."

"And how do you think that your master save you? You had no chance, rat, no, no."

The rat realized that something was going wrong, and Scurl hesitated. Then he proceeded to threats.

Vitch stepped back into the camp.

"Do what you like, Scurl, but I won't pass by that shrew. I don't want my paws cut off with a rapier. If you don't want pass by the badger, it's not necessary. I go to sleep."

The rat almost back to his mattress as he was overtaken by Scurl.

"Well, rat, you won," he hissed. "Let's go as you said."

"It's more safe," Vitch assured him. "Much more. I myself don't want to fall into the paws of that striped dog. He's really crazybeast."

Indeed, the rat jeopardized himself no less than Scurl, so the newt thought, maneuvering in the grass, approaching nearer to the place where terrible beasts, the badger and the mouse warrior slept. One of the front paws of Scurl was clutching the chestnut bell,for it would not ringing. He was very careful. Very.

Vitch like light shadow followed him. Wrapped in a cloak, the little rat seemed like a ghost, like a fleeting vision, like a inaudible forest spirit.

This was all the more surprising when he suddenly crunching twigs and yelled:

"Stop the thief! Hold him!"

Further events developed in a matter of moments.

Matthias' s torch highlighted puzzled muzzle of the newt, then his bright red underbelly, on which showed off the white girdle of his son - the Warrior would have learned it from thousands same others, then the bell chestnut on neck of the newt and triumphant Vitch muzzle, who struggled grabbed the tail of the reptile and was full with righteous anger.

Reptile's tail, on which was the bracelet Jess, who gave it to her son.

"Eulalia!" There was a roar of Orlando, who learned reptile and swung at Scurl his huge war axe.

Scurl was called Droptail, so seeing shine steel overhead the newt left in the rat's paws his tail with the bracelet.

Vitch looked down at his paws, in which the tail was wriggled as a snake, and lost consciousness.


	28. Chapter 28

Vitch opened his eyes. His head throbbed - the nape was hurted, temples were tingle, the forehead was as if it was bursting from the inside. The pain was everywhere and at the same time in the whole head.

The little rat licked his lips, they were salty. In the mouth there was nasty iron taste of blood. Vitch got up on one elbow and spat aside.

The was ringing in his ears. The rat gently leaned back and put his paws on his head.

"Oh, damn it, do head always hurt so?" He groaned and closed his eyes.

Flashes of light, flickering images. Fog and a series of muzzles, paws and places.

Vitch opened his eyes. Huge trees shook their crowns and clouds floated on the sky.

"This cloud looks like a black-robed rat", he said mechanically. Vitch, even when he was a little dibbun liked to lie on the soft grass of Mossflower and look at the clouds in different shapes.

Well, stop. How did he remember what he liked when he was a kid?

Vitch slowly sat down on the mattress, pulling in front his paws and pointless looking at his fingers.

He suddenly realized that he had remembered. No, he hadn't remembered everything, all of his life, no.

Just this veil, which blanketed his mind, left, and he could recall episodes from his childhood, from the life in the gang, recalled his spying in Redwall and that, already distant hike to Malkariss.

As if the whole puzzle suddenly easily formed and, if he wanted this, he could see in his memoirs all important episodes of his life.

He remembered his parents.

"Oh, my front teeth! How git I am..."

White clouds were floating on the sky, the sun's rays cast through the lush treetops. The sky was bright blue, as it was then.

Then, when the sky breaks into a million pieces like a broken vase, and the world is painted in red mist. Then, when the whistle of that terrible weapon overtakes you and in that brief moment, a moment before the deadly balls will touch up your head a second before the all-consuming pain…

Yes, you fall on your knees and begging paws.

"No, no, please!"

"Please!"

The silken mask and bright cloak, hoarse, eerie laughter.

Slagar the Cruel!

Vitch knew the hell - it was there, and ran away from the pitch darkness, but that laugh overtook him. It caught him and destroyed.

The rat heard footsteps and turned.

"How are you?"

It was Mattimeo.

"I ... I'm fine," Vitch struggled to portray carefree. Somehow, it seemed to him that what he had remembered somehow affect on his muzzle. And he wanted to hide it. It was necessary to solve something. He can't come to Redwall, no, of course not. Redwall was waiting for lost children and the valiant warriors who rescued them. Waiting for former slaves. But not waiting for the beast, who took a considerable part in the capture of dibbuns.

"May I take a peace of water?"

"Yes, of course", the mause left and Vitch grabbed his temples.

Damn, what should he do? What?

"Here", Mattimeo handed Vitch a mug of water. He almost instantly drained it.

"Memory is not returned?" the mouse asked suddenly.

"K-ha!" Вич even choked by surprise."No, no, I haven't remembered anything," he replied quickly."And why do you ask this?"

"You were unconscious for a long time. Not so long as it was at the first time, but rather long... I thought that from the shock your memory may return."

The ratshook his head.

"No, my memories haven't come back. Not really", he said. Vitch wanted to change a subject of the talk. He looked at the mouse and noticed that the white belt was on him."And what had happened with the newt?"

"He was caught nonetheless . Oh, Orlando was so angry when he saw that he again took up took up the old doings. He threatened to cut off his head. But Rosyqueen intervened, persuaded to let him go. So he went to the north woods, without a tail.

"I see", Vitch suddenly again lost interest in Skurl and everything that had happened to him. The reptile did not say anything about Vitch, which was understandable, he was at a disadvantage. But now, for some reason, such a virtuoso trick with that newt didn't make the rat happy. Why he had done it? For what reason?

He was the same beast as Skurl was - slick beast. Therefore, he felt a sense of disgust, when the newt talked to him. How did he differ from this reptile? Didn't differ. He was also happy to profit of those who were in trouble.

" I'll bring you something to eat," Mattimeo anxiously looked at Vitch, but he just smiled and nodded.

Left alone, the rat stood up, and then wearily leaned his back against a tree and closed his eyes.

He stood and thought what beast he was? Why he always did things with not the best way? What did he want in life?

And he would not move until he solve it.


	29. Chapter 29

Still he didn't take any decision. In the morning Vitch walked together with everybody, talking and pretending to be glad. Indeed he was quite an actor.

But in the night he was sleepless, staring at the stars with red eyes, trying to find answers for his questions on the dark blue canvas of sky.

In his thoughts he was torn between "For all I care. Let them decide what to do with me. They don't pitch me out, it's fine…"and "How can I live there? After all I've done… Eating in Hugo's kitchen, seeing Syntia's brother who was made an orphan…".

His memory didn't help him, when it returned his thoughts jumbled together even more, and the young rat was lying for hours taking his head in his claws.

He always wanted more. He wanted to be somebeast. Not just a little annoying rat.

All his actions were driven by this idea.

Redwall was closer and closer, and Vitch took the decision. Sometimes he did not lack determination. The little rat started to get prepared for escape. He was always quite prudent.

Rosyqueen fed him like a prize turkey, that's why he massed up spare food. He started to lay aside bread, cheese and pies.

He would need some food for the few first days and then he would invent something. Something…

Having made up his fardel Vitch looked at the guards' fires and the sleeping camp.

Once he had done the same – he had gathered his things early in the morning and having glanced at his home, being small and unremarkable he had left for new and interesting life as it seemed to him.

But the interesting life hadn't worked out. Humiliation, punches, and kicks were the only award for the little spy.

Then, in the dawn dump haze the little figure wrapped in the sordid blue raincoat quietly disappeared in the Mossflower.

Vitch had already been walking for few hours but he was still sicker at heart.

He was really attached to them all – Mattimeo, whom he had just recently hated with all his heart, Tess, even Mattias, and Rosyqueen was so kind to him and she always tried to feed him…

He started to miss even those who were not close to him – Cheek, brave Auma, the shrews…

He missed even this poofy Oartail…

He missed the time he had spent with them, the feeling of big united family, where you are accepted the way you are, and you can share your ups and downs with everybody. But now all this was in the past and he went father and father keeping only memories of all good things he had found on this way.

Vitch didn't realize at first that he was crying, he stopped leaning on a tree. These were real tears – not the tears of self-pity or sham whining. He was taking leave of his friends he could not stay with only because of himself, his past deeds, this seemed to be his punishment. And it was a harsh one.

What a nervous wreck! He seemed to become a downer at last…

"If you don't feel like leaving, why are you leaving?" Vitch heard right above his ear.

He turned short and jumped a little away.

It was a mangy otter – Oartail.

"Hell, otter, what a disgusting habit to sneak up in such a manner!" The little rat cried wiping his face with his claw back.

"Everybeast is looking for you," Oartail ducked the question.

Vitch snatched his paw.

"Don't tell them."

They kept silence for some time. The otter said in a low and sad voice:

"I won't. I also decided to leave. "

"But why?!" Vitch marvelled. "You are not me, you're quite a different story! And all your fellows you've been imprisoned with by Malkariss, they all will be in Redwall…"

Oartail turned away, picked a grass blade and played with it thoughtfully.

"I don't know. I… maybe I'm different in a way. I could not rejoice with the others. And staying in Redwall, marvelous as it is, is not for me. I've been imprisoned since I was a child, and now I'd like to see the world… And I also want to find my home. "

He didn't know why he was telling everything to this little rat. Maybe he lacked somebeast to share such thoughts. Or maybe Vitch was also a loner as himself.

"Your home? You don't remember where it is, do you? "

"No, I don't. But I'll be searching for it, " the otter answered stubbornly. "It's a very beautiful place – a river dam. I'll recognize it among thousand others. I'd love to see my little sister once again. Do you remember your home, rat? "

Oartail didn't thought Vitch would answer, but the little rat frowned as he said:

"I do. It's not far from here. It's curious my guys don't know I'm so close."

"Did you escape? But why?" Oartail marveled.

"It's not what you're thinking, otter. They didn't beat me, instead they taught me how to read and write, I had a happy childhood, whatever you imagine. And I wanted to be something more than little Vitch, and I ran away to join a gang, I was a spy and then… " Vitch kept silent for some time. "You know, a day passes and you promise to yourself: "That's it, enough, tomorrow I'll run away, I'll come back home!" A new day comes, you have new tasks and don't run anywhere. How could I come back? I wanted to return being rich and famous. But I stayed same "little Vitch", a little errand rat. Sometimes there are such chiefs that you don't have a slightest possibility to escape, and you're far away from home, and you have no place to come back… "

"But you can come back. Now!"

Vitch shook his head.

"No, I can't. You cannot be proud of a son like me. And I'm also afraid to come back and get some bad news. Maybe they… It's better to think they are fine. "

Oartail wanted to argue but looking at Vitch's face he caught himself and stayed silent.

The little rat seemed to have taken the decision and nothing could have be done.

"I haven't thanked you for the rescue, otter, " Vitch changed topics. "One can say I'm in debt to you. You want me to join you in searching your home?"

Not saying a word they lifted their heads and looked at rising sun beams playing in the rain drops.

"I told you it would be too easy, " the otter smirked. "Still, life is beautiful no matter what."

Vitch sighed deeply getting rid of his bitter thoughts and countless worries. Indeed life is so beautiful! Hundreds of roads were open for him, he could breathe in sweet morning air, he could … He could do so many things!

Two skinny beasts went down the path slowly.

Oartail didn't object to Vitch's question on the joined travel, and the little rat took it for consent. He started to think it over:

"Oartail, is there anything about your home that you remember? Any features? What was the neighbourhood of your dam? "

"No… nothing. I was a baby."

"It's OK. We will reach the great river, then we will go along it and ask every otter passing by about otter families. They should know! "

"Yeah! Maybe. Listen… maybe it's not good that we've left not saying… goodbye. They've done so much for us. "

Vitch was thinking the same.

"I hate farewells," the little rat sighed. "It's always so sad. I can leave a note. Basil will find it for sure when he follows our track."

They peeled a piece of bark and scratched the following:

 _«Dear friends!_

 _We are sorry for a dust we've raised. We set out in a search of Oartail's home._

 _It was very sad for us to say good-bye. Thank you for everything. We will come back one day, hopefully Redwall and you will host us._

 _Vitch & Oartail»._

The piece of bark came to an end, though many words were still unspoken. Vitch fixed the piece of bark at a height of the elm-tree trunk.

"We will come back, won't we, " Oartail asked again.

"No doubt," the little rat replied.

And they continued their way.

The end.


End file.
